The Christening
by forever fan
Summary: The new baby's christening brings together two very different families.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Christening

Author: Forever Fan

Rating: T

Spoilers: All Episodes

Category: Romance/Supernatural

Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television.

I make no profit and intend no infringement.

Summary: The new baby's christening brings together two very different families.

Feedback: Yes, please

Chapter One of Seven:

It was unseasonably warm for March, but welcome. The late afternoon California sunshine peeked through the leaves onto the quiet, tree lined street. Professor Harold Everett pulled into his driveway, expecting to see his children playing in the yard. He was surprised to find it empty, "empty" being a relative term. Bicycles, skateboards and even a jump rope littered his path as he made his way across the grass. It didn't matter how many lectures the kids received on "putting things in their proper place", some of their belongings always ended up strewn about the place.

Generally, the Professor was easy going about neatness, remembering how terribly chaotic and messy things had been after his first wife's death, and as long as nobody got hurt, he could overlook the kids' lack of tidiness. However, upon entering the house, he noted there were no toys to been seen and everything appeared ordered and clean. He smiled to himself. At least his children had learned to keep things comparatively organized inside of their home.

Pausing in the entranceway to the living room, Harold Everett saw his two sons quietly studying, each bent over a book. Hal, the eldest, had books spread on the sofa and was scribbling in a notebook on his lap. Butch, his twelve-year-old, was sprawled on the floor, chin propped on one hand and absently patting the dog, Waldo, with the other.

"End of the grading period guys?" the Professor said in the way of a greeting.

Butch sighed. "Yeah, Dad." He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. "And if I want to make it into junior high school in the fall I've got to pass everything. I'd hate to redo the sixth grade – I'm already the tallest kid in class."

"Well, it's good to see you with such a strong motive," his father smiled at him, then turned to the boy on the sofa. "How's it going, Hal? Hal?"

"Hmmm?" Hal answered, distracted. He looked up at his father. "Did you say something, Dad?"

"Yes, I asked you how it was going."

"O.K., I guess," Hal glanced at his notebook, puzzled. "Dad, do you think it's worth it to do all of this extra credit work when there is so much to do by the end of this term already?"

"Well," his father replied, "I guess it depends on how committed you are to those projects." The Professor walked over to the sofa and looked down at Hal's notebook. "I seem to remember those extra science projects paying off pretty well when you got into the advanced, college prep classes your first year in high school. And all of that work will look good on your college applications."

"Yeah," Hal agreed, scratching out a formula he had written earlier in his notebook. "But I'll probably just end up going to Clinton University anyway…"

"Don't think you're a shoe in just because I'm on the faculty," his father advised him. "Besides, you'll still be eligible for scholarships, and there is graduate school to consider down the line."

"Gee, Dad," Butch complained, "can't we just get out of high school first?"

The Professor laughed. "You're right, Butch, but planning ahead and preparing for other options never hurt anyone." He suddenly frowned. "Why are you guys studying down here? What's wrong with your room?"

"The baby was making too much noise," Hal explained, "and we kept checking on her every time she cried."

"Is that where your mother is now?" The Professor asked, worriedly. "Is the baby all right?"

"She's fine, Dad," Butch told him. "Mom said "that's just what babies do" and that Melissa is expressing herself and finding her voice. We figured with all of her experience being a nanny and all, she would know what she's talking about."

"No doubt," his father agreed with a smile.

"And Prudence is up there helping out," Hal said. "She makes faces at Melissa to make her laugh." Suddenly they heard Prudence's giggling from upstairs. "I guess it makes them both laugh."

"I think I'll go check on what's so funny," the Professor said, and headed out of the room. "You two keep up the good work."

XXXXXXXXX

Finding his bedroom door opened at the top of the stairs, Harold Everett peeked in before announcing himself. His three-month-old daughter was lying on a baby blanket on the bed, flailing her naked arms and legs in the air, cooing while her nine-year-old sister leaned over her making faces. Whenever Melissa made a grab for Prudence's long, blond pigtails and missed, Prudence giggled. Phoebe Everett, the children's former nanny, and now their mother, was bent over the baby securing her into a disposable diaper.

"Prudence," Phoebe warned, "you're going to regret doing that when Melissa gets a handful of your hair in her fist." She smiled at Prudence then picked up Melissa and cradled her on her shoulder. "Good afternoon, Hal," she said without turning.

"Well, hello everybody," he said, coming into the bedroom. "And how are all of my girls this afternoon?"

"Goodo, Daddy!" Prudence hopped off the bed and rushed to him. "Melissa and I are playing a game. She hasn't caught my pigtails yet, but she thinks I'm funny."

Hal pinched the little girl's nose. "You are funny, Darling. And you are a very good big sister." He bent to kiss the top of her head. "Now, your brothers are doing their homework downstairs. Are you all finished with yours, or is it time you joined them?"

Prudence scrunched up her pretty face. "Oh, yeah," she said. "I forgot. I'll get my books and go downstairs." She skipped out of the room and down the hall.

"She gets distracted playing with Melissa," Hal mused looking after Prudence. He turned to Phoebe and smiled. "She always wanted a baby sister."

"Wishes do come true, in time," Phoebe said, smiling back at him and raising her face for a kiss. "They're getting to be great friends."

Hal pressed his lips to his wife's in a warm hello. "Hmmm," he hummed in acknowledgement, and then broke off the too brief kiss. "And how about a hello kiss to you too, my angel?" He took the baby from Phoebe and kissed Melissa's downy fair hair. The baby smiled and gurgled as Hal pressed her to his chest.

"You're going to get talcum powder all over your jacket," Phoebe protested, but Hal only shrugged.

"Small price to pay for this greeting," he said. The baby blew a spit bubble at him and clutched his tie. "This kid has got some kind of grip."

"She's a Daddy's Girl, all right," Phoebe smiled, "just like Prudence. You certainly know how to spoil the women in your life, Hal."

"Including you?" He looked at his wife appreciatively. She was already back in pre-baby form, and running the house as efficiently as ever, even with an infant to care for now. She constantly amazed him, never ceasing to keep him guessing for an instant.

"Including me." Phoebe gave him a sidelong glance while folding the baby's blanket and straightening the comforter on their bed.

"Now give her to me and I'll finish dressing her while you change." She took the baby from him wiping at the dusting of baby powder on his lapel. "We'll have tea ready for you in the den in a moment."

"But…" Hal started to protest that she didn't need to prepare him tea every afternoon any longer, but Phoebe had already left their room for the nursery. Since her arrival he had looked forward to the quiet time with her when he came home, but now with the baby's schedule… Hal shrugged while he removed his jacket and smiled as he noticed the wet, wrinkled mess Melissa had made of his tie. It had been a long time since there had been a baby in the house, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed the presence of one until their new baby daughter had entered their lives.

XXXXXXXXX

The living room was as quiet as a library as the Professor passed his studious three children without comment. Entering his office, he quietly closed the double doors between the den and the living room. Turning towards his desk, he saw the tea service already laid there. The room looked as neat and tidy as it always did, at least since Phoebe had joined the household, the only thing out of the ordinary being a pink baby blanket on an arm chair. Looking more closely at the tea tray, Hal saw Melissa's feeding bottle and rattle there. The sight of them made his chest tighten.

"Here we are," Phoebe said cheerfully, bouncing Melissa a little in her arms as they entered. The baby was dressed in a cozy, pink and white onesie, her blue eyes wide over her button nose, a pacifier in her mouth. As Phoebe seated herself in the armchair, Melissa seemed to look around the room as if searching for her father.

"And here you are, Angel," Hal handed Phoebe the feeding bottle and removed the baby's pacifier. He turned to begin preparing their tea as his wife started feeding Melissa.

"Homemade cookies again, I see," His voice took on a scolding tone. "Phoebe, I keep telling you that you are doing too much. I don't need all of this – especially right now. Just take care of the baby and take care of yourself. The rest of us can get along fine. I don't want you tiring yourself out."

"Oh, Prudence did most of the work making those cookies," she told him as he placed a cup of tea on the side table next to her chair. "Besides," her eyes twinkled as she looked up at him, "I like doing things for you."

"I know you do and I appreciate it," Hal stroked the soft curve of her cheek. "But you have to let us do for you too. Now," he picked up his tea cup and leaned against his desk, "spring break is next week and I want you to let us – all of us – take over the household while you take change of the baby. I've already talked to the kids about this."

"Hal," Phoebe looked down at the baby as she happily drank her dinner. "That's a wonderful plan and I'm grateful but…" She looked up at her husband. "I have something to tell you and I'm not sure how you'll feel. I…I received a letter from Aunt Justine and Aunt Agatha today and they'll be coming soon…to visit the baby."

"Oh, is that all?" he shrugged. "Why did you think I'd be upset? I like your aunts. Of course if this visit is anything like their last…"

"As is usual for them, they don't say when they are arriving, but I have the impression it will be quite soon." Phoebe paused and looked at Hal meaningfully. "Quite soon," she told him.

"So?" He didn't understand her. "What's the difference when…? Oh," suddenly her inference dawned on him. "You mean 'quite soon' as in next weekend? As in time for the baby's christening? As in the same time Bob and Ben are here?" Hal's voice rose in alarm, the idea of Phoebe's eccentric aunts and his two brothers meeting not settling well with him.

"There's more," Phoebe said in a quiet voice, more in deference to the baby's heavy eyelids than to her husband's apprehension. He looked at her expectantly. "You know Aunt Henrietta will be here." He nodded. Aunt Henrietta lived in town, and her frequent visits had become even more frequent since the arrival of her great-niece. "Well, I also heard from Uncle Alfred and Uncle Horace and they also plan to visit Melissa…"

"All of them?" Hal said loudly, standing. Melissa's eyes opened wide and then fluttered closed again. "All of them?" he repeated, in a softer voice. "They'll all be here next weekend when Bob and Ben are here?"

She nodded. "Well, we can't tell anyone to stay away. It is their niece's christening as well. I couldn't hurt them by asking them not to come."

"Of course not," Hal agreed, sorry he had reacted as strongly as he had. "I didn't mean to imply they aren't welcome." He placed his cup back on the tray and scrubbed his face with his hand. "But you know how they can be and…now there will be so many of them. I don't know if Bob and Ben are quite prepared to meet so many Figalilly's at once."

"They are my family," Phoebe said, a bit defensively. She rose, moving the near dozing Melissa to her shoulder. Patting the child's back gently she looked at Hal with her chin set. "I don't suppose you've considered how they might feel with so many Everett's around."

Then Phoebe left the den, but not before Melissa could burp loudly, as if making her own commentary on her parent's discussion.

XXXXXXXXX

Dinner passed quietly. The children were all preoccupied with their studies and in subdued tones shared their individual concerns about preparations for their tests. The Professor also had exams to prepare and to grade before and during spring break, and had quite a bit of work to complete after dinner that evening. One of the reasons he and Phoebe had decided to schedule Melissa's christening for spring break was due to the lull in everyone's schedule after exams. But now, with trepidation building at the meeting of the Everett family and the Figalilly clan, what was supposed to be a relaxed event with family and a few friends seemed fraught with anxiety.

As much as Hall regretted his startled reaction, he believed his concerns were valid. After all, he, Bob and Ben had been raised alike and had very similar, conservative, and rational perspectives on things. Both Bob and Ben liked Phoebe, long before she was his wife. She was difficult not to like. When he had told them they were getting married, his brothers were delighted. They'd attended the wedding, together volunteering to take care of Hal, Butch and Prudence while he and Phoebe were away on their honeymoon. So at that time, both had been too preoccupied with those arrangements to pay much attention to Phoebe's relatives.

Sneaking glances at his wife during dinner, Hal perceived the fatigue and tension beneath her attentiveness to the children's concerns. She listened to each of them, dispensing her usual optimistic yet realistic advice. Phoebe supported Hal's extra credit science projects continuing, directed Butch towards some last minute chapter assessments in his history book, and told Prudence she would review geography with her with the aid of flashcards the next morning.

The three kids helped clear the table after dinner, but were excused from any additional chores to attend to extra studying. As Phoebe started scraping dishes to prepare them to load into the dishwasher, Hal stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Let me finish up in here," he said. "You go upstairs and rest. Melissa will be awake again in awhile. I can get her next bottle ready."

"You have exams to prepare," Phoebe objected.

"Yes, but I can get that completed before bed," Hal leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Go and rest. Everything will be o.k."

She knew he wasn't just referring to the evening chores, but to their earlier discussion in the den. Phoebe smiled at him and sighed a little.

"Things do have a way of working out for the best, don't they?" She slipped her arms around him, holding him closely for a moment. Then she raised herself on tip toe to whisper into his ear. "Don't work too long tonight. Don't come to bed too late."

"Too late for what?" Hal thought, but didn't voice. Instead her grinned at his wife and said, "I won't come to bed too tired."

XXXXXXXXX

Melissa had finished her evening bottle and was sleeping soundly when Phoebe turned down the lights in her former bedroom, now the nursery, and closed the door. She was in the habit of keeping the door to the baby's room closed during the day so household noises wouldn't wake her. And although it was difficult to hear Melissa from her room during the night, she knew she would be up and attending to her before the child's cries could wake anyone.

The other children needed their sleep, and so did Hal. She was used to getting up with infants; she had done so for years with many different families; and getting up for her own child was no hardship. Of course, leaving the arms of her sleeping husband was something she hadn't had to do during all of her years as a nanny, and that she was sure she would never get used to doing.

As she prepared for bed, Phoebe considered Hal's reaction to their families meeting. Somehow they had avoided the event at their wedding, but the birth and christening of a new Figalilly was something her family took more seriously than a wedding. Her marriage to Hal was eventually approved of and accepted – her relatives were fond of him even if he wasn't – like them. But Melissa was considered one of them and they felt it their duty to welcome her to the family. The entire clan would not be coming, thank heavens, but the most well traveled representatives would be there.

Not too many: Justine, Agatha, Alfred, Horace and Henrietta. Of course, they outnumbered Bob and Ben…but maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the Everett's would see her aunts and uncles as elderly eccentrics and nothing special. She knew Americans often saw Britons as unusual. Perhaps Bob and Ben would be merely amused by the novelty of her family and not worried that their brother had married into a nest of neurotic foreigners.

As she sat in front of her dresser, Phoebe removed her hair tie, loosening the thick, blond waves. Brushing her hair, she told herself not to worry and to believe she and Hal would deal with whatever happened as they always had - together.

The bedroom door opened and Hal came in. "They're all asleep," he told her quietly closing the door behind him. Coming to stand behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders squeezing gently. His eyes met hers in the mirror. "I thought you'd be asleep too."

"No," she laid down her brush and looked into his eyes a long moment.

"Hal," Phoebe began, "you're not really worried my family and yours will have big problems getting along do you? I know my family may be a little hard to understand, but they aren't hard to get along with – once you get to know them."

"I love your family," Hal told her sincerely. "How couldn't I? They're just like you." He bent and kissed the side of her neck, still holding her gaze in the mirror. "They may be a bit unusual, and unexpected, but they are kind, loving and generous. Bob and Ben can appreciate that. You are all free spirits," he then whispered into her ear, "and I captured one. How could I be anything but grateful to the family who helped to create such a beautiful and magical woman for me to love?"

Phoebe stood and turned to face him. Her arms went around his neck and in the soft light she held his deep blue eyes. "How do you always know what to say to make everything right?" she asked him.

"A trick I learned from this mystical friend of mine," Hal said before he kissed her.


	2. Chapter 2

The Christening: Chapter Two of Seven

Phoebe opened her eyes in the darkness. At first she thought the baby had woken her, then one of the other children, then Hal. But she felt no urgent pull towards any of them, and Hal continued sleeping, snoring softly. She lifted her head from his bare shoulder, and cautious not to wake him, slipped carefully from his embrace. He muttered something that might have been her name, but didn't waken.

She pulled her light robe on over her thin nightgown and quietly left the bedroom, closing the door behind her silently. Phoebe paused in the hallway, and hearing no sound but the dog's rhythmic breathing, tied the sash of her robe tightly around her waist and headed down the stairs.

Moving towards the back of the house she let herself out into the backyard. It was cool and dew had already settled on the grass. Looking up at the starry sky, Phoebe took in a deep breath of fresh air. It was a peaceful night and nothing seemed out of the ordinary or in need of her attention. She was about to concede her waking had been nothing but the result of nerves when something in the night sky caught her eye. What appeared to be a moving star seemed to get bigger and bigger, heading right for the yard.

Before Phoebe could decide what the object was, she _knew _it was Aunt Justine and Aunt Agatha arriving in their balloon. Then, just as soon as the realization struck her, the balloon began to take shape – first in her mind's eye then in her field of vision. The shape of the bottom of the balloon was clear, the outline of the balloon itself soon becoming visible.

With a speed she hadn't been prepared for, the balloon suddenly appeared above her. The stripes were visible although the colors were muted in the dim light. Soon Phoebe could hear the balloon, its air valves hissing, the soft fluttering of its fabric, and the hushed voices of her aunts.

"Prepare for landing," Phoebe heard although the balloon was still far above her.

"Agatha, do you hear me?" Now Phoebe could hear Aunt Justine's sharp tone and smiled. These two lovely ladies would be here soon.

"Lower the bags," Agatha was heard saying.

"And the ropes," Justine could now be seen as well as heard.

Phoebe rushed into the yard. "Aunties!" she said in a loud whisper standing directly under the balloon, head tilted back.

"Phoebe!" Agatha cried, leaning far over the side of the balloon's basket. "Phoebe, dear, we'll be right there! Oh Justine," she was overheard saying to her sister. "Our darling Phoebe is down in the yard to greet us."

"Move back, Phoebe," Justine called. "We don't want to land on you!"

She threw a rope over the side and lowered the anchor. As the balloon settled closer Phoebe took hold of the rope. When the basket was close enough to the ground, Justine secured the ladder and climbed out. Together they fastened the ropes.

"Our Phoebe," Justine said, hugging her briefly, and then holding her at arm's length said, "How well you look dear, and how happy."

"Let me see her," Agatha was laboriously climbing out of the basket. Gaining the ground, she took the few steps to where Phoebe had rushed to meet her. After embracing her, Agatha took a long look at her niece too.

"Oh my, yes," she said pleased, "very happy. She is radiant. You look very much in love and very well loved." Agatha smiled mischievously. "Your Professor must love you dearly – and keeps you happy. Are you content?" she asked.

"Yes," Phoebe told her smiling. "I am very content."

"Then that is all that matters," Justine said. "That you are both happy and in love and content with the life you have together. How are the children?"

"The children are marvelous," Phoebe told her, "all of them are happy and thriving."

"And our Baby Figalilly?" Aunt Agatha asked.

"She is wonderful, Aunties," Phoebe beamed. "Just wonderful. But she is only half Figalilly you know. She's also half Everett."

"Well," Aunt Agatha said, shrugging, "we won't hold that against her."

"Agatha!" Justine admonished.

"Oh, but of course we love her," Agatha told Phoebe. "And we approve of your Professor." She smiled impishly. "He's so handsome, so forceful and so masculine." The older woman's voice had an almost dreamy quality.

Phoebe smiled, quietly.

Agatha nudged Justine and said to her in a low voice: "I told you he had a thing for her, didn't I?"

"Agatha…" Justine said, warningly.

"All right now, Aunties," Phoebe said rubbing her hands together. "Let's finish securing your balloon then go into the kitchen for a nice long visit and some nice hot tea." She shivered slightly, "It's getting cold out here."

As Phoebe busied herself with the ropes, remembering what to do just as her aunt had taught her, they both looked on approvingly.

"Of course," Agatha said to Justine when Phoebe was out of earshot, "she wouldn't be cold if she wore more to bed. But when you have a man to keep you warm all night it doesn't pay to overdress."

"Agatha!" Justine said sharply once again, "That will be all!"

XXXXXXXXX

The kitchen was cozy in the middle of the night, and tea, sandwiches and cookies make a lovely impromptu early morning picnic. Phoebe's aunts kept her entertained, not merely with tales of their adventures, but family stories as well. Their travels brought them in close touch with family Phoebe hadn't seen in recent years, and she enjoyed hearing about so many distant relatives.

"…and then Cousin Albert gave up singing in the chorus and began dancing again – at the age of sixty-three!" Agatha said, laughing.

"But didn't Uncle Henry try to stop him?" Phoebe asked. Uncle Henry was Albert's father and well over ninety.

"Well, he would have my dear," Justine told her, "but then he would have to take his own advice and stop dancing too."

Phoebe was laughing with both of them then stopped abruptly. She bit her lip.

"Excuse me, Aunties," she said rushing from the room.

"Do you think we've woken her Professor?" Agatha asked Justine. "Or the children?"

"No," Justine said after a moment. "I think we are about to meet our great-niece Figalilly." She stood and crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. Removing a feeding bottle she placed it in the warmer and replied, "I think she's hungry."

Moments later, Phoebe entered the kitchen carrying a pink bundle.

"Aunties," Phoebe said to them proudly, "may I present Miss Melissa Figalilly Everett."

Her aunts surrounded her cooing at the bundle.

"Oh, Phoebe," Justine said, "she looks just as you did as a baby."

"Yes, dear," Agatha said, pulling the baby's blanket back to peer at the child's face. "She does look like a Figalilly. Same nose, same brow, same coloring…" she paused, "but not the eyes."

"No," Phoebe smiled, "she has her father's eyes."

"Bedroom blue eyes," Agatha remarked. At her sister's critical look she said, "Look at her eyes, Justine. She has thick dark lashes, and a dark rim around the blue iris. I didn't make up the name. The baby has her father's bedroom blue eyes."

"And his appetite." The women were interrupted by Harold Everett's low tenor voice. He has come into the kitchen unnoticed, wearing his pajamas and robe.

"Ladies," his nod acknowledged both Justine and Agatha. Then he took both of their hands in turn, leaning forward in a polite half-bow.

"Oh no, dear," Agatha protested, "not like that." She embraced the younger man tightly. "You are a Figalilly through marriage now, my boy. And we greet you as we greet all of our family."

"Welcome to the family, dear boy, welcome," Justine also embraced him. "We may be a little late with our congratulations, but better late than never."

Hal was genuinely touched. "Well, thank you Ladies, thank you." He then glanced at his wife who smiled warmly at him.

"We were just admiring your beautiful daughter, Harold," Justine told him. "She is the very picture of our Phoebe as a baby."

He leaned over his daughter, smiling at her, and then looked into his wife's eyes. "I'm very glad to hear that."

"Except her eyes," Agatha said. "Melissa has your lovely eyes, Harold."

"Yes, well," he said to Agatha, still gazing at Phoebe, "that wasn't my idea. That was someone else's wish."

The baby began to fuss and both of her parents looked at her.

"We'd better take care of that Everett appetite," Hal said, moving to the bottle warmer, removing the bottle and testing the temperature of its contents.

As the baby drained her bottle content in her mother's arms, Hal asked Phoebe's aunts: "Are you staying in the house this time or do you still prefer the balloon?"

"Oh, the balloon, always Harold," Justine said. "We are completely self-sufficient there."

"My, yes," Agatha confirmed. "I wouldn't know how to sleep anywhere else."

"Then may I escort you to your rest?" Hal said, gallantly. "There is still plenty of nighttime left and I think we could all use a bit more sleep."

"Of course," Justine rose and kissed the foreheads of both her niece and her great-niece. "Good night dears, sleep well."

Agatha took her turn. "Good night our Phoebe, good night our Melissa," she said, kissing them both soundly on their cheeks.

"Good night, Aunties," Phoebe said affectionately. "See you both in the morning."

Hal escorted both women outside and settled them in for the night. He returned to the kitchen in time to see Phoebe stand, ready to bring the sleeping Melissa to bed.

"They are delightful," he said to her grinning. "I'm glad they've come."

"Thank you," she smiled, knowing he was sincere.

"Let's go back to bed," Hal said, slipping an arm around her shoulders and guiding his wife and daughter up the stairs.

XXXXXXXXX

When Harold Everett made it down to breakfast the next day, he was surprised by how quiet and empty the house seemed. Entering the kitchen he was met, not with the familiar voices of his family or the smells of breakfast cooking, but of boisterous laughter coming through the open back door. Following that sound, he also found electrical extension cords leading from the kitchen to the yard.

In addition to the enormous hot air balloon parked in the yard was what appeared to be a full breakfast spread across the picnic table. His entire family was seated around the table and not two – but three Figalilly aunts.

"Good Morning, everybody," Hal's greeting was friendly, but tentative. A house so full that breakfast had to be annexed to the back yard was not a usual occurrence.

"Good Morning, Sweetheart," Phoebe rose from the table with Melissa in her arms, and met him with a kiss on the cheek. "I know this is unexpected. When I came down this morning my aunts had already started cooking out here and since the children all need to start exam day off well…"

"Strawberry waffles, Dad!" Butch exclaimed with what was probably a second helping on his plate. "And there are fresh strawberries."

"And blueberries," Prudence chimed in, "and scrambled eggs and bacon and sausages…"

"…and great coffee," sixteen-year-old Hal finished. He had just been permitted to start drinking coffee occasionally, and considered himself a connoisseur.

Hal allowed his wife to direct him to a seat at the picnic table. He accepted the coffee Aunt Justine set before him, returning her smile of greeting with one of thanks.

"Good Morning, Harold," Aunt Agatha called from the waffle iron. "Strawberry waffles for you too? And eggs? And bacon?"

"Um…yes. Thank you," he answered. Aunt Henrietta, the third sister and the one with whom Hal was best acquainted eyed him from across the table. She was sipping at her own cup of coffee.

"Professor," Henrietta said in her usual chilly tone, merely nodding at him in acknowledgement.

"Henrietta," Hal nodded back. Although Aunt Henrietta was not an infrequent visitor to the Everett household, she made her lack of enthusiasm over her niece's marriage known. Never confronting Hal directly, he knew she had shared her opinion with Phoebe that she disapproved of her bringing an "outsider" into the family. She continued to show her criticism by never referring to Hal by his name, only his title. In turn, he showed his irritation at her by refusing to call her "aunt". It was petty, he knew, but effective. At least they both knew where they stood with one another.

"You children had better finish your breakfasts and gather your things,' Phoebe told the oldest three Everett children. "And you two," she said to Butch and Prudence, "have a bus to catch."

"I can drop them, Mom," Hal told her, finishing his coffee and clearing his place at the table. "We've got plenty of time."

"Yeah," Butch said handing his plate and juice glass to Aunt Justine, "since Arabella is his now, he keeps her running in perfect condition and we're never late."

"Perhaps," Henrietta remarked, "it is merely a coincidence that as he has matured, Hal's car repair skills have improved and that is why Arabella runs so well now. For a boy of his aptitudes and his trustworthiness there can be no other explanation."

Hal had to admit, although he and Henrietta maintained an uneasy peace, he was glad she had very much warmed to his children, and in particular, she adored Melissa. That may go a long way in securing his eventual acceptance by her.

Butch considered Henrietta's statement and shrugged. "I guess so. Either way, I'll take the ride. Come on, Prudence." He trailed after Hal as they headed towards the house.

Prudence also passed her breakfast things to Aunt Justine. Before following her brothers out of the yard she paused to kiss her parents and baby sister goodbye. "I wish I could inherit Arabella when I go to high school," she said wistfully.

"Not a chance," her eldest brother told her. "I'm not parting with that car – ever. Maybe you'll get a chance to drive her when you're old enough."

"Me first," Butch protested.

After the children said their "thank you's" and good byes", they were met with a chorus of "good lucks" from the adults. Phoebe looked after them for a moment with an affectionate smile, then suddenly her expression changed and abruptly she stood up. She handed Melissa to Hal.

"I had better make sure they don't forget anything," she told him with a worried frown and hurried into the house.

Hal chuckled, smiling at the baby. "You'll have to get used to Mommy doing things like that," he said kissing the baby's forehead. Melissa cooed and laughed at him. Then he looked up to find each of the aunts looking at him intently. Again he realized how little he understood this family and what they really thought of him- except for Henrietta.

"She'll have a lot to get used to," Henrietta said dryly.

Agatha set his breakfast before him and with a smile said, "Eat heartily Harold. You have a long day ahead of you and you will need to be fortified." Her eyes twinkled at him as she waved a large mixing spoon in the air. "You are the picture of strength, my boy, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for anything."

"Um…yes," he agreed, confused by her words. "Thank you, Aunt Agatha." Hal tasted his waffle. "Delicious. Everything looks just great. I appreciate all of you preparing breakfast - it is a big help to Phoebe and a huge weight off of my mind. She would never ask for help herself."

"Of course not, Harold," Justine confirmed. "That is just not done by a Figalilly. But we all plan to do all of the cooking and all of the housework while we are here. Phoebe is handling everything well, but having a baby is tiring, even for – one of us."

"I keep telling her that," Hal started to explain, "and the children and I are doing as much as we can to help her but…"

"Well," Henrietta said airily, "evidently it is not enough. The poor girl is drained."

"Aunt Henrietta!" Phoebe sounded shocked as she suddenly reappeared on the back steps. She crossed to the picnic table. "I am surprised you'd say such a thing." Placing her hands on Hal's shoulders, she continued. "Hal and the children have been a great help. I've never felt more wonderful in my life."

"And drained," Henrietta repeated.

"Not drained," Agatha protested, "but perhaps a bit tired…?"

"No," Phoebe said firmly.

"But dear," Justine reasoned, "you must let us, all of us," she included Hal in her gesture, "help you a little. A baby and three active, growing children can use a lot of one's resources. We don't want to see you run yourself down, child."

"See?" Hal turned to look over his shoulder at Phoebe. "We're all in agreement. We only want what's best for you."

"But your exams…" Phoebe objected.

"Will be finished today," he told her, "and I'll have completed all of the grading by the beginning of next week. That will leave me plenty of time to finish up the details for the christening. The kids can help too; we'll all be on spring break."

"Well, perhaps," she smiled at him. "It is always good to have you at home."

"Great." Hal smiled back at her and stood. "And right now I'll take this angel into the house and change her. She'll be ready for her mid-morning nap before long."

"But I can…" his wife reached for their daughter.

"Yes, you can," he said, kissing her quickly on the cheek, "but I'm doing it right now."

As Hal retreated into the house with Melissa, all of the women looked after him.

"He is a good man, Phoebe," Justine told her.

"Oh yes, our Phoebe," Agatha agreed. "He's a fine figure of a man and devoted to you and to all of his children."

Phoebe smiled at them, nodding. "Yes, I am very lucky."

"I'd say he was the lucky one," Henrietta sniffed. "You work from morning till night to keep this house in order, cooking and cleaning and raising so many children." Her many bracelets jingled as she gestured widely, encompassing her surroundings. "When I think of what you might have had…"

"I have everything I could ever have wished for and more, Auntie," her niece told her.

"More work," Henrietta asserted.

"More love," Phoebe said in a tone that ended any more discussion. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to join Hal and Melissa and see what else there isn't left for me to do."

After she departed, Justine turned to Henrietta. "Really, Henrietta," she scolded. "I don't know what you keep going on about. They seem to be so happy and thriving. I don't know what more you would want for our girl."

"You know as well as I what she could have had," Henrietta said, exasperated. "She could have lived like a princess – a queen – if she had married Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh."

"But she didn't love Cholmondeley," Agatha objected. "Not the way she loves Harold. And love is the most important thing."

"Not more important than happiness," her sister said.

"But Harold does make her very happy," Justine interjected. "I have never seen her happier or more content in her life. When we were here years ago you could see how much she loved this family."

"And now she is absolutely radiant with a baby of her own," Agatha smiled, showing deep dimples. "A well-loved and well-cared for woman living with and loving a man so handsome and affectionate…"

"There's more to life than that too, Agatha," Henrietta cut her off, annoyed.

"Well if there is," Agatha remarked, returning to the waffle iron, "I don't know what it is. They've never found a better prescription for a happy life."

"Halloo!" The women were interrupted by shouts from inside of the house. "Where is everybody?" The voice continued to boom.

In the doorway of the house Horace Figalilly suddenly appeared bigger than life in his pale suit and multicolored shirt. He was accompanied by Alfred Wiggins, who was grinning broadly beneath his bushy moustache.

And right behind them was Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh, a wide smile blooming as he removed his hat.

A crack of thunder sounded in the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

The Christening: Chapter Three of Seven

Exam days were always hectic ones, sometimes full of last minute details and always including was a student or two begging off the test with an emergency excuse. And in all of his years of teaching, Harold Everett had heard them all. However, today was the first time he had ever been tempted to use an excuse to beg off of the exam himself.

"Dear Dean," he composed the note in his head on his way to the university, "my wife's former fiancé just showed up at my house, so I won't be able to give exams today. I want to keep my eye on him"

Even as the thought occurred, Hal grinned to himself at his own foolishness. He certainly trusted Phoebe, and besides, the house was now full of Figalilly's. Still, they all appeared to adore Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh, and he would feel better if an Everett or two was around. Then he frowned, his kids were all enchanted by Cholmondeley as well. Maybe if Bob and Ben were there…

Hal shook his head at himself as he steered the car into the faculty parking lot. The sudden downpour that had accompanied Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh's arrival had made his drive to work a slick one, but now the clouds parted and the day seemed to be returning to its former blue skied glory.

Although he couldn't really spare the time, the Professor sat in his car for a moment thinking over the events of the morning. He and Phoebe had rushed from the nursery when they'd heard Uncle Horace's shouted greeting and were both delighted to see both him and Uncle Alfred. It was only when Hal spied Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh that his delight turned to something closer to dismay.

Phoebe had greeted each of them identically with a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek. That should have reassured Hal that she now saw Cholmondeley as a member of her family – however distant – and nothing more. And he did believe that. It was what Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh believed that concerned him.

"Darling Phoebe!" Cholmondeley had exclaimed. "How well and how happy you look.

Now where is that beautiful baby we've all come so far to see?"

"Yeah, Phebe," Uncle Alfred agreed. "Let's all get a look at the lil nipper."

"She's asleep," Phoebe told them, "in the nursery."

"Well then, let's all go up there and see her," Horace said enthusiastically, heading back into the house.

"We don't want her disturbed," Hal protested.

"Oh, we wouldn't do that,' Horace gave him a wide smile; "just a quick peek and we'll let the darling sleep."

So, with a shrug of his shoulders at his wife, Hal had reluctantly agreed and trailed the troop of Figalilly's up the stairs into the nursery.

Phoebe had opened the door to the baby's room slowly, a finger to her lips to remind everyone to be quiet. She escorted everyone into the room to gather around the sleeping child's crib. Melissa lay on her back, covered in a light blanket, her chubby fists on either side of her. Soft, blond hair haloed around her head, and long, dark lashes lay on her smooth cheeks.

"She's a beaut, Phoebe," Uncle Horace beamed.

"Cor blimey, looks just like you as a babe Phebe, she does," Uncle Alfred whispered.

Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh looked at the child, smiling fondly and perhaps a bit wistfully. "Every inch a Figalilly," he said.

"Everett," Hal had said quietly, standing next to Cholmondeley. "Her name is Melissa Figalilly Everett."

"Oh yes," Cholmondeley replied, "of course, old man. But she does look like our Phoebe."

"_My _Phoebe," Hal said to him, and the entire room faced him. Self-consciously, he cleared his throat. "Shall we leave now?" He smiled, apologetically. "We don't want to take the chance of waking her, do we?"

He'd held open the nursery door as the family left the room quietly. Phoebe ushered them out, then took Hal's arm in the doorway.

She smiled as she looked up at him. "_Your _Phoebe?" she asked, amused.

He grinned back at her and leaned down for a kiss. "_My _Phoebe," he confirmed murmuring against her lips. He felt gratified when she'd both squeezed his arm and returned his kiss warmly.

So why, Hal mused gazing out of his car windshield unseeing, was he in the least concerned with leaving Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh at the house? It wasn't as if he had come to make a claim on Phoebe. And even if he had, Hal was certain she wouldn't leave him – leave them. She seemed to be happy, said she was happy, and he believed she was happy. So why was he feeling so edgy now?

A sharp rap on his car window made Hal jump and broke his reverie. He looked up to find one of his students peering at him anxiously. A bit embarrassed by his startled reaction, Hal lowered his window.

"Professor Everett," the young man began, shifting nervously from foot to foot, "can I talk to you about possibly postponing my exam?"

Sighing, Hal nodded and raised his window again. If only he could get out of giving the damn thing and get home as soon as possible.

XXXXXXXXX

By the end of the day, Harold Everett was grateful for his "fortified" large breakfast. Rushing between exams and ducking students, he'd only had time to snag a stale sandwich from the campus cafeteria, forgoing his usual mid-morning coffee break with colleagues. Instead, Hal made it back to his office both mid-morning and mid-afternoon to call home, both times finding himself in rather lengthily conversations with Aunt Agatha and Uncle Horace respectively. In fact, he hadn't been able to speak with Phoebe at all that day, not even to ask her if there was anything she needed for him to bring home. So now as he found himself heading home at last, the usual pleasant feelings homecoming evoked were replaced by disagreeable sensations. Not the least of which was an empty stomach.

Before he opened the door to the house, Hal could hear sounds of laughter. Preparing himself to act cheerful, he was only mildly surprised when the door was opened for him and his wife met him with a fragrant cup of tea and a sandwich on a small tray.

She kissed him before saying anything, and in her light, one-armed embrace he felt the tensions of the day begin to dissolve. Releasing him, Phoebe smiled up at him and said, "You're just in time for a rather large gift exchange and a few surprises." At his grimace, she laughed. "Don't worry," she took his hand and led him into the house, "I think you'll like these."

The living room looked like Christmas morning. The only thing missing was the tree. Uncle Horace's suitcase was opened and spilling over, making everyone wonder how he ever managed to close it in the first place. And Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh seemed to have a cache of gifts spread around him, fortunately none of which seemed to need food, water or cleaning up after. But the best gift in the room was seeing his brothers seated side-by-side on the sofa. Both seemed to have boxes and bags nearby full to bursting, and were wearing twin expressions of bemusement.

"Bob! Ben!" Hal rushed to them, embracing them both in a huge bear hug. "We weren't expecting you guys until next week! How did you manage to get here so soon?"

"It was the weirdest coincidence, brother," Bob told his younger brother, grinning. "I was just about to telephone Ben to tell him I thought it might be possible for me to get here earlier and leave without him. Then he called me to say a business deal closed a week sooner than expected and he'd be coming out to pick me up today."

"Coincidence, huh?" Hal looked at Phoebe with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged innocently in response.

"I'm telling you, Hal," Ben was shaking his head. "This deal was so complicated I didn't know if it could be completed in time for me to get out here by next week…but here we are."

"And I'm betting the deal went well," Hal joined his brothers on the sofa, preparing to eat his snack, still eyeing his wife questioningly.

"Great," Ben said. "Fantastic, actually. That's how I was able to bring the treasure trove to these three...ah…four." He looked at each of his nephews and nieces in turn. "These sure are gorgeous kids, Hal."

Bob nodded his agreement and pointed at Melissa. The baby was lying contentedly in her Great-Aunt Agatha's arms, sucking on her pacifier and looking around the room with round, blue eyes. "That one is going to break a lot of hearts, brother, starting with mine. I could steal her so keep your eye on her."

"What about me, Uncle Bob?" Prudence sided up to her uncle, and was immediately taken up in a big hug. "You already have my heart, Darling," he told her.

"I won't steal them," Ben was saying, "But I'll buy them from you, pal. Name your price." Prudence giggled and moved to sit on her father's lap.

"Priceless," Hal said, accepting Prudence's hug and kiss. "But I sure would like it if I was an uncle sometime. That I'll accept as a fair trade."

"All of this talk of the buying and selling of children," Henrietta said with a sour look on her face. "I don't know if I can approve."

"Just a joke, old girl," Alfred said, setting his tea down and rubbing his hands together. Hal didn't miss Henrietta's bristled reaction to being called "old girl" and suppressed a grin. Phoebe met his eyes, and tried to shake her head at him, ending up smiling instead.

"Now," Alfred looked at each of the children, "you lot are a sight more patient than I was as a tot. Don't you want to see what all of these presents are?"

All three children looked to their mother; she had been the one postponing opening the gifts until their father came home. Phoebe looked at Hal to explain, "I told them you would have to give final approval on when they can open all of these."

"O.K.," he smiled at each of the kids. "I say: now."

The frenzy was more subdued than Christmas morning, but just as messy. The kids took turns opening gifts from each of the adults. Bob and Ben had brought gifts together bringing Hal books and a new tennis racket; Butch new baseball equipment and sneakers; and Prudence enough doll accessories to start a doll mini-city.

Horace and Alfred's turn at gift giving came next. The two older men now shared a home on a small island in the South Pacific and pooled all of their resources. Both boys were given brightly colored floral shirts, and Prudence was crowned with a wreath of beautiful tropical flowers and silk streamers.

"I feel just like a princess," Prudence said breathlessly as she twirled around the living room, streamers flying.

"So do I," Hal said in a low voice to Butch, fingering the material of his vivid shirt.

"And then there is this little beauty," Horace was carefully unwrapping a large, wooden object. He presented it to Phoebe. It was a roughly carved statue of a woman with ample hips and a large protruding belly.

"Why, it is lovely Uncle Horace, Uncle Alfred," she continued to view the object curiously. "Thank you."

"It's more of an overdue wedding present, Phebe" Alfred explained. "She's a fertility goddess."

"It's for both you and Harold," Horace said, beaming.

"Not a necessity for this family," Bob said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Ah, thank you both," Hal said, grinning and gesturing at Melissa. "I don't know how much we need it now, but…it is appreciated."

"Oh, she represents fruitfulness, prosperity and virility as well," Horace told him. "You can never have enough of that, my boy." He winked at the younger man.

Bob and Ben both laughed.

"What's that?" Prudence asked. Butch looked up also, curious about the answer.

"It means bringing wealth and strength to the family," Phoebe quickly clarified for the children.

"And more babies," Alfred included.

"More babies?" Prudence looked from her mother to her father. "More babies?" she repeated, "When?"

"No, Sweetheart," her mother said, taking her hand. "No more babies for a while. Come along now, it is time to get these things up to your rooms. Now thank your uncles and get ready for dinner." The children started to do as they were told, then Prudence turned to her mother.

"But what about Mr. Feathers' presents, Mommy?" she asked.

"You can open those after dinner. Cholmondeley?" Phoebe smiled at him questioningly.

"Of course," he smiled back, telling Prudence, "This will give you time to anticipate my gift longer." The child's delighted smile at Cholmondeley did not escape her father's notice.

As the children, left the room, Phoebe turned to Uncle Alfred. "You are still a stirrer-upper," she admonished him.

"Well, Phebe," he said, smiling, "you always said you wanted a big family. Four kids is a good start, but…"

Hal joined them, and taking the statue out of Phoebe's hands said, "How quickly does this thing start to work?" His wife looked at him, shocked.

"I'm kidding, Darling," he said laughing, and kissing her cheek. "Four kids are enough for now, Uncle Alfred."

"Distasteful," Henrietta said under her breath.

"Lovely," Agatha replied and with a pointed look to her sister said, "I would love another dozen great-nieces or nephews like this one." She nodded at the dozing Melissa in her arms.

"Dozen?" Hal shook his head and placed the statue on the coffee table. "Maybe we should leave this downstairs for now." He crossed to Agatha and reached for the baby. "And I think it's time this one was asleep away from the excitement for now. Thank you, Aunt Agatha." He took Melissa from her great-aunt and carried the baby out of the room.

"And it's time dinner was seen to," Justine gestured to her sisters. "And Phoebe," Justine said to her, "you join your husband and children in getting ready for dinner. There isn't a thing for you to do in the kitchen, and I will tidy up in here." Phoebe opened her mouth to speak, but Justine cut her off with a meaningful look.

"Yes, Aunt Justine," she said with a sigh and left the room.

"All of you gentlemen," Justine included Horace, Alfred, Cholmondeley and the Everett uncles, "have time to go back to your hotel and freshen up. Dinner is at six-thirty."

As they all prepared to leave, Ben looked at Justine with admiration. "I could use someone like you in my company. You don't say much, but when you do everyone listens. You keep everything in order and command this group like a general."

"Just so, Mr. Everett," Justine said with a small smile. "That's another Figalilly trait. I'm sure you've seen it demonstrated by our Phoebe."

"Oh yes," Ben smiled, "she organized Hal and the kids when no one else could. And it's not easy to get Hal to do anything he doesn't want to do. I don't think anyone is better suited for him than she is."

"But is he the best match for her?" Henrietta was adjusting her scarves, the scent of roses surrounding her.

"Why not?" Bob said, standing. "She certainly seems happy with Hal and the kids, and looks like a woman capable of making up her own mind. I don't think she's someone who would do anything she didn't want to do either."

"She's not," Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh said to them as he passed. Donning his hat he headed for the front door and The King's Arms Motel.

XXXXXXXXX

Harold Everett made his way down the stairs following the wonderful aroma of dinner cooking. Trying to determine what was for dinner by scent alone, he was heading for the kitchen when the doorbell stopped his progress.

"I'll get it," he called out to the household and opened the front door.

Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh stood on the threshold smiling in greeting. "Good Evening, Professor," he said. "It is a beautiful, crisp eve and just perfect for an after dinner constitutional. You do take an evening constitutional after dinner, don't you?"

"Not for years," Hal told him, accepting the man's hat and coat and depositing them on the coat tree.

"It is wonderful for the digestion. May I suggest you start the habit?" Cholmondeley led the way into the living room.

"You can suggest it," was the affable reply, "but I generally don't have digestive problems." Under his voice Hal added, "At least, not until now."

Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh gave a small chuckle. "Ah, yes. I see."

"Would you…" Hal began.

"…care for a drink?" Cholmondeley finished for him. "Yes, thank you. A short one, please."

"And would you like…"

"… a scotch. Neat. Just as you prefer." Cholmondeley said as he seated himself on the sofa.

Hal began preparing drinks, shaking his head in annoyance at the other man's irritating habit of finishing his sentences. He didn't know if Cholmondeley performed this little "trick" for everyone, or if he was the only privileged one. He also didn't know how much he could take of it, as he didn't need much of an excuse to punch this guy right in the nose.

"I hope it won't come to that," Cholmondeley told him as he accepted his drink.

"Pardon?" Hal asked in confusion.

"Come to blows, old man," he sipped his scotch and nodded his appreciation. "We're practically family. And any – tensions – between us were settled long ago."

"I…I wasn't thinking…" Hal stammered.

"…of actual violence?" Cholmondeley smiled. "Of course you were. It is only natural: alpha male posturing and all of that. After all, I am on your…turf…as you might say. You feel called upon to defend your territory."

"I don't feel…"

"…as if Phoebe is your property?" As the sentence was finished for him, Hal's face began to darken. "Yes, you do. And here I am, an old rival, showing up and bringing up that old primal urge to protect what is yours."

Hal could feel his temper rising. "I don't think it's necessary…"

"…to secure your rights as husband, father and Lord of the Manor? Certainly you do."

"Will you please stop putting words in my mouth?" His voice began to rise with his temper.

"Sorry, old friend," Cholmondeley smiled contritely. "Just an unfortunate habit. I merely want to reassure you that you have absolutely nothing to be worried about."

Hal put his drink down on the coffee table with more force than was necessary. He was standing over the other man where he sat on the sofa. Unconsciously he leaned towards him.

"See?" Cholmondeley continued. "Right now you are posturing over me in a gesture some men might consider aggressive." Hal looked down at himself and took a step back. "And I am telling you that is not necessary. You won, old man. You got the girl, the home, the baby – she loves you. I could never be a threat to that."

"And I never meant to imply…"

"…that you doubt her? Of course you don't. And I understand. If things had gone according to plan and Phoebe were mine and I had that adorable daughter…"

"But they didn't and this is my family," Hal interrupted him. "You are welcome to visit but…"

"…don't overstay my welcome, hmmm?" Cholmondeley took another sip of his scotch. "My dear fellow, I am here with the family. I am an old family friend. Since my boyhood I have been present for the birth of every Figalilly."

"Everett." Hal ground out, aware his anger was showing.

"Yes. Everett." Cholmondeley acknowledged. "And now Professor Everett, I believe the rest of your family has arrived."

The doorbell rang again. As Hal went to answer it, he was met at the door by his wife. With her hand on the doorknob, Phoebe turned to him with wide, questioning eyes, full of concern. She looked lovely and refreshed in a simple, pale lavender dress, her honey blond hair pulled up in a mass of curls.

Hal smiled at her reassuringly. "You look beautiful, Darling," he told her, pressing a gentle hand on her lower back. "Open the door and let's greet our guests."

She gave him a small smile in return and opened the door. Loud, friendly welcomes flooded the foyer as the four uncles were ushered towards the living room. Reentering the living room Hal was again face-to-face with the smiling Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh standing in the doorway.

"Welcome everyone," Cholmondeley received them warmly. Then, acting as host asked, "May I get anyone a drink?"

Something told Hal he would need more than an evening constitutional to aid his digestion tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

The Christening: Chapter Four of Seven

Dinner wasn't as complicated an affair as it could have been with Aunt Justine in charge. She added the extra leaf to the dining table, and somehow found enough chairs. It had been a long time since so many people were seated at the table, but instead of seeming crowded, it felt warm and inviting. The three older children were seated between the adults, and enthusiastically participated in their conversations. Melissa was passed around to anyone who wanted to hold her, and appeared at ease with each of her uncles, great-uncles and great-aunts gurgling happily.

Dessert was on the table when Melissa was returned to her mother's arms. Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh turned to Phoebe and asked, "May I hold her?"

Her eyes flickered to her husband's for an instant. Hal met her look, but nothing in his expression indicated any objection. She handed the baby to Cholmondeley.

The man smiled into the baby's face, and she playfully reached for his nose. He laughed. "She's absolutely perfect, Phoebe," he said. "Just the sort of daughter I would expect you to have." To the child he remarked, "Sorry, but I didn't bring you a pet, my Pet."

"Her brothers and sister can share," Hal commented, dryly. "She doesn't need her own fur, feather or fin companion just yet."

"Melissa can share Scheherazade with me, Daddy," Prudence told him. "She already sleeps under her crib."

"Watching out to chase away bad dreams," Cholmondeley informed the little girl. "I'll bet she does the same thing for you. Cats are legendary bad dream chasers."

"Blimey, I thought that would have been the rabbit hopping after dreams," Uncle Alfred said to Prudence with a wink, "or the pigeon to carry them away."

"Are you kidding?" sixteen-year-old Hal scoffed. "That pigeon never likes to fly the coop. And when he does, he visits in the neighborhood and returns with the same message I sent out with him."

"You've made him too comfortable," Uncle Horace scolded waggling his finger at the boy. "He has the company of a lady pigeon and a family out there and too much food. Only a bachelor wants to roam."

"That's right, son," Uncle Alfred confirmed. "Why should your pigeon fly away from the comforts of home and family? It's the bachelors looking for adventure that make the best wanderers" He gestured around the table. "We're a family of bachelor uncles and maiden aunts, bit by the travel bug early and never to alight. Then the quest for exciting escapades never ends...and there are memories and stories of exotic, far away places and romantic quests…"

"Wow!" Butch exclaimed, his eyes wide. "I want to have lots of stories and romantic quests too. Mom, is it possible I got bit by your bug?"

"It's possible, Butch," Phoebe said, then reminded him. "But you'll still have to finish high school and college first."

Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh smiled at her fondly. "Yes Butch, don't forget your mother completed her Oxford education before embarking on her wanderlust. And had a career…"

"That led her here," Aunt Henrietta said, glancing at her surroundings with distaste.

"That led her to settle down," Aunt Agatha concluded. "You see Butch, not everyone bit by the wanderlust bug has to forego home and family. There are many circumstances that may lead you to your destiny. Even your Aunt Henrietta married."

Prudence turned to Henrietta. "That was the prince, right?"

"Precisely," Henrietta said.

"Did you ever live in a castle?" the girl asked.

"Yes," she answered, dreamily. "It was a lovely castle set in the valley of…" Henrietta broke off. "But it wasn't half the size of the castle where Phoebe was to have lived. Cholmondeley's family has the most beautiful and enormous castle I have ever seen."

"You live in a castle?" young Hal was astonished.

"It isn't that large," Cholmondeley said off-handedly, while bouncing the baby lightly, "it certainly isn't as large as the one Phoebe grew up in."

"What?" All three Everett children said at once, turning to their mother. Hal was also staring at his wife in astonishment.

"Oh," Phoebe tried to shrug off Cholmondeley's disclosure nonchalantly, "that's an exaggeration. The family home is merely a large house…"

"Manor," Henrietta filled in.

"…that has a lot of rooms," her niece finished. She looked at Hal and the children and simply shrugged. "It was a nice, old house."

"Did it have a moat, Mommy?" Prudence asked.

"Of course it did, my dear," Henrietta answered. "All titled gentry of that status have stately castles, and the moat comes standard."

"It wasn't exactly a moat," Aunt Justine informed the astounded Everett's, "just a small safety measure."

"There weren't any alligators," Aunt Agatha interjected.

"At least not anymore," Uncle Horace said.

"Alligators? Moats?" Uncle Ben said, shocked. He looked from one brother to the other. "Can you guys believe this? And I thought I had a great security system."

"I thought you had a great house. I even thought I had a great house," Uncle Bob replied. "Hal, did you know any of this?"

"No," the Professor said quietly, meeting his wife's guilty expression. "I didn't even know about the title."

"Lady Phoebe Figalilly," Henrietta said proudly. Smiling broadly at her niece, she was met with a warning look.

"Wow," Butch said again.

"A Lady," Bob said, amused to Ben. "How's that for bringing a little class into the family? And we just thought she was a regular lady."

Smiling warmly at his sister-in-law, Ben told her, "We already liked you. Now to know you're titled, landed, old-world gentry…make us colonists feel a little out of our league."

"Being a lady isn't only a title, it is also how one conducts herself," Phoebe said, looking pointedly to Aunt Henrietta. "And it is the same with being a princess. Actions are more important than status."

"Spoken like a true American," Bob said to her with an approving nod.

"But you Americans certainly can appreciate a fortune," Henrietta then remarked to Ben. "I believe you have a very successful business. Of course it isn't old money but…"

"That's enough, Henrietta," Justine said, in a clipped tone.

"Yes, Henrietta, it is offensive to discuss such things at the dinner table," Agatha agreed.

"Really?" Ben said, "I always thought dinner was the perfect place to discuss finances."

With a shake of her head at him, Justine replied. "Not at a family dinner, dear." Then she turned to Cholmondeley, "I believe you had some lovely things for the children. Perhaps it is time to retire to the living room before it gets too close to their bedtimes?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Cholmondeley handed Melissa back to Phoebe. "And what would you say, Professor, to retrieving some of that fine, Napoleon brandy?"

"Napoleon brandy, Hal?" Ben asked.

"It was a surprise gift," Hal said rather darkly as he rose from the table. Looking at Phoebe he continued, "There never seems to be a lack of surprises around here."

XXXXXXXXX

Smooth Napoleon brandy and rich coffee could usually soothe any foul mood Harold Everett found himself experiencing, but he knew that wouldn't be the case tonight. Sitting in his pleasant living room, surrounded by his caring brothers, beautiful children and lovely wife, he could not help but consider the ways in which his life was lacking. He had a solid and rewarding career, made a decent living, and provided a good home and ample security for his family. Or so he had believed. He certainly couldn't offer his family titles, huge tracks of land, unlimited access to old money, or a castle…with a moat! At the moment, he wasn't sure they could even afford any domestic help. Not that Phoebe had asked for any, but maybe it was something she needed.

He glanced at his wife seated beside him on the sofa. She was preparing coffee for their guests from the tray on coffee table. Her natural grace and perfect manners were the things he had first noticed about her and continued to admire. But now he wondered: was what he had believed was training from all of her years as a nanny really from years as living as a titled lady in a regal manor trained by her own nanny? Although he knew about her Oxford education, he really didn't know why she had pursued a career taking care of children when she obviously had so many other options opened to her. With her quick mind and keen intelligence, what had drawn her to the work? And why, after all of these years, hadn't he thought to ask?

Phoebe turned to him, offering him coffee. She smiled at him, but was having difficulty meeting his eyes. He could sense the uncommon tension in her, and her discomfort gave him an irrational pleasure. That he was angry about her non-disclosures to him and the strain between them was obvious to them both. He didn't have to possess Phoebe's rare intuition to discern that.

Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh was again taking center stage, regaling the room with yet another tale of misadventure when he paused. "It seems I have joined the ranks of 'bachelor uncle' now," he said reflectively. "Finding exploration and exploits a substitute for hearth and home."

"Maybe you're just too young to settle down, my boy," Uncle Horace said brightly. "Just like me. That doesn't mean you won't take that drastic plunge someday."

"I've never stopped looking, even from a balloon," Aunt Agatha divulged to the company while stirring her coffee. "It is never too late to find true love."

"It can be if true love eluded you," Cholmondeley said contemplatively. "Now then," he looked at the expectant children, "the moment you have all been waiting for..." Seated in his chair, he produced several wrapped packages from behind him. Handing them out one at a time to the children as the adults watched each child take their turn.

"Stamps," Hal enthused, "these are great. I've never seen any of these before. They must be really rare."

"And quite valuable," Cholmondeley replied, "from a very old collection that has been in my family for years."

"But I can't…" Hal looked at his father.

"Of course you can," Cholmondeley nodded at the boy's father, "they weren't doing anyone any good sitting in a vault. Now it is time for them to be dusted off and enjoyed."

"Gee, thanks. How did you even know I collected stamps? Mom, did you…?"

"I must have," Phoebe answered. "How else could he have known?"

"Educated guess," Hal mumbled from beside her.

Cholmondeley beamed at him. "Whatever makes you comfortable, Professor."

"Oh, wow," Butch breathed, unwrapping a large and rather heavy collection of old coins.

"These are groovy."

"Yes," Cholmondeley said to him, "that is my old collection. It has also been passed down from generation to generation. And again, just sitting in a vault they have no value. They need to be enjoyed as well."

"They really will be," Butch said. "Thanks so much."

Bob looked closer at Butch's gift. "Those really are fantastically old coins, Cholmondeley. That's got to be some costly collection."

"It certainly went to the right person," Ben ruffled Butch's hair roughly. "My namesake has my appreciation for money."

"I don't know if we can allow you to give the children such extravagant gifts," Hal objected.

"Who else do I have to give them to, old man?" Cholmondeley asked. "And these children are like family to me. It is like handing these things down to my own children."

"But…" Hal continued. Then the light pressure of his wife's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Can I open my gift, Daddy?" Prudence asked.

"Certainly, Darling," Hal conceded with a sigh.

The doll Prudence unwrapped was nothing less than exquisite. It possessed a delicate porcelain face and hands, and was dressed in an elaborate satin and lace wedding gown.

"Oh, she's beautiful!" the child cried. "Look Mommy, she looks so much like Felicity!"

"She is Felicity's great-great grandmother," Phoebe told her. "She has been a family heirloom for generations. Her name is Harmony. She is traditionally given from one family to another at the time of a marriage. She ensures happiness and harmony in both families."

"I'll treasure her," Prudence said to Cholmondeley, cradling the doll gently. She stood up and hugged him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you so much Uncle Cholmondeley."

"Uncle Cholmondeley," he repeated. "That's even better than a "thank you"." He gently kissed the child's cheek. "Thank you, Prudence."

"And lastly…" Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh presented a small wrapped box to Professor Everett. "This is another gift traditionally given at the time of a wedding, but under the circumstances has arrived a little late."

Nodding his thanks, Hal opened the box, finding a gold locket nestled in satin inside. It appeared to be an antique, with an intricate filigree design, and a long, delicate chain with an elaborate clasp. It was superbly crafted and breathtaking.

"It is for Phoebe, of course," Cholmondeley said, softly, "her wedding present." Before Hal could speak, he added. "It isn't from me, old man. It is my gift to you…to give to her."

"I…I don't know what to say," Hal stammered. Phoebe was looking at him with wide, blue eyes full of love.

Not taking her eyes from Hal's she spoke to Cholmondeley in a voice filled with emotion, "Thank you, Cholmondeley. We will cherish this."

Gently, Hal removed the locket from its satin nest, opened the clasp and placed it around his wife's neck. Securing the clasp, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly.

He felt, more than heard, the collective sigh of relief from both families.

XXXXXXXXX

Harold Everett sat up in bed with a book opened in his hands. It was an old habit to relax with a book before retiring, but tonight he stared, unseeing at the words on the page. His thoughts were restless, and he was aware he was listening for his wife's footsteps. They had seen the children to bed together; then returned to visit with their relatives without sharing one private word. Finally, towards midnight he had begged off the company, explaining he had work to complete the next day.

Phoebe had stayed behind to see their guests out, say her goodbyes, and lock up things for the night. She would secure her aunts in the backyard, and see to the baby's late night feeding. Under ordinary circumstances he would have assisted her or completed those tasks himself. However, tonight it had been all he could do to remain in the living room making small talk and reminiscing with his brothers without breaking down and cross-examining his wife with a dozen questions.

At last he heard Phoebe's soft footfall and looked up as she opened the door. She met his gaze then turned to her dresser.

"Should I stand up?" Hal asked her coldly. "I don't know the appropriate protocol when a Lady enters her own bedroom."

Phoebe sighed. "Hal, could we please not discuss this now? It is very late."

He closed his book with a snap. "Yes," he agreed, nodding. "It is very late. Very late for me to discover a lot of things about you"

"What possible difference could any of this make?" She asked, rubbing at her temple as if a headache were beginning. "I thought you said my past didn't matter to you. That only our time together and the life we made together had any meaning."

"It doesn't mean anything that you can buy and sell me? Can buy and sell my entire family for that matter? That you are have a title, land, a castle…a castle with a damn moat? That there is a parade of people who all seem to know a lot more about you than I do or ever will?" His voice rose to a harsh whisper in deference to the sleeping children.

"That's not true," Phoebe said earnestly. "You know me better than anyone. You know my heart."

"Do I?" It pained her to see the genuine hurt in his eyes. "I love you and I know you love me, but how is it you couldn't trust me with this? Couldn't trust me with your past?"

"Because I knew you would react like this," She gestured at him. "I knew you would find all of this hard to accept." Crossing to the bed, she sat down and faced him. "I know there are…things about me and about my family that you don't fully understand, and it has taken time for you to recognize those differences and acknowledge them…even enjoy them. But the rest of it…the titles and the land and the money…none of it is important."

"It is to me." Hal said, stubbornly.

"Why?" Phoebe asked, she tried to reach for his hand, but he resisted. "It means nothing to me. It isn't part of who I am, it never was."

"Yes it is. It is a part of what has made you who you are, and it implies a lot that you couldn't trust me with that part of your life." He shook his head. "It's important for me to feel I can provide for my family, for you, to know that all of the time we were planning for our future, you _knew_…"

"I would have told you," she said, trying to make him understand, "but money has never been a priority. Material things mean so little to me, to the family, really. It is security, nothing more."

"A thousand umbrellas," Hal muttered.

"What?"

"Your Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh told me that's what he would provide for your rainy days," he said. "I guess it turns out he could afford a lot more than a thousand of those umbrellas."

Phoebe tilted her head, looking more deeply into his eyes. "Is Cholmondeley what this is really all about?"

"Well," Hal answered, "he certainly knows all about your past, your family, your property…" He lifted the antique locket from where it lay against his wife's collarbone.

"If it bothers you that much, I won't wear it," Phoebe said, softly.

"It bothers me that he not only gives you jewelry, but gives me the jewelry to give to you."

"It's…" she began.

"Yes, I know," Hal sounded angry. "It is another _family _heirloom. _I _am your family now," he gestured towards the door, "all of those kids out there are your family now."

"I know that," she said. "And all that I have is theirs. All that I have is yours."

Slowly he began to realize what she meant. "Are you saying…?"

"You are a very wealthy man." Phoebe announced. "And your sons and daughters are provided for very well. In fact, your Melissa…"

"Has a title," Hal mumbled. "I'd already figured that out. My little angel is a Lady." He shook his head.

"Is that so terrible?" He could see the question in his wife's soft blue eyes.

"No, it's not terrible. But it is disappointing that you never trusted me."

"I do trust you," Phoebe suddenly looked down. "Maybe I didn't trust myself. I don't suppose you have ever asked yourself if I felt insecure…facing your past."

"My past?" he looked surprised. "What does my past have to do with anything? You know everything there is to know about me."

She nodded, and then admitted, "Yes, I know about your family: your deceased parents, your brothers, even aunts and uncles…your first wife." Looking up at him again Phoebe said, "I know how much you loved her. How much you and the children missed her. And how hard it had been for me to live in her home, loving you, loving them…"

"Phoebe…" Hal began, this time he reached for her hand.

Abruptly, she turned her back to him. "I'd like to get ready for bed now," she said in a thick voice. "Help me to unzip my dress, please."

Doing as she asked, he added. "Don't avoid talking about this."

"No," she stood up. "It's very late and we are both overtired. We can discuss this in the morning."

"You're forgetting what you just said: I do know you. You won't bring this up again."

Stepping out of her dress, Phoebe began pulling hair pins out of her hair, "There is no point in discussing this now. I don't know why I brought it up." Facing him again she shook out her curls. "Let's just go to bed."

Eying her Hal said, "You are trying to distract me."

She smiled coyly. "I told you that you knew me well."

He stood up and reached for her wrist, stilling her movements. Holding her eyes he said, "Please talk to me."

"Very well," "A moment passed and then Phoebe sighed again. "After I first arrived here for many months I saw the types of women you were interested in dating. They were all well-educated, professional, self-assured and modern women. All of them were lovely, sophisticated and experienced." She paused. "They were like your late wife. They were perfect female counterpoints to you."

Hal looked surprised. "But…none of them could ever hold a candle to you."

"You give me more credit than I deserve," she said, trying to smile. "I didn't know you felt that way, all I saw were your actions…your preferences…I didn't think you'd ever want a woman who…"

"Even after you knew that I loved you?" Hal was taken aback by her admission that she had ever been insecure, or uncertain about his feelings. Of all of the things he had found out about her tonight, this was by far the most astonishing.

Suddenly candid she told him, "When you want someone very badly, you can forget yourself. I didn't want those unimportant things that I'd left behind get in the way of our life together. Just like I didn't want what you'd had in your past to influence our future."

Unable to reply for a moment, he took Phoebe into his arms and whispered in her ear, "And you could never tell me this before?"

"No," she admitted, her words were muffled against his shoulder. "I simply didn't think it was important. I thought things would work out for the best…and until today…I'd believed they had."

"They have worked out, wonderfully." Hal brushed the shiny curls away from her face, and kissed her cheek. "But I never want you to feel you have to hide anything from me again. Agreed?"

Nodding again, Phoebe lifted her head to look into his eyes. She stroked his cheek, her palm rasping against his sideburn. "Agreed." Gently pulling out of his arms she told him, "I'm going to get ready for bed now."

As she disappeared into the bathroom, Hal returned to bed. After climbing in, he tossed his book on the bedside table and settled back on the pillows. He was still amazed by his wife's revelation and her ability to continually surprise him. If their life together lasted a hundred years, he would never get used to the way her mind worked, never be able to be one step ahead of her. He was constantly rediscovering her, and for a man dedicated to definite, concrete solutions, he still wouldn't want her any other way. He considered her his prize enigma and would gladly spend more than one lifetime trying to tease out all of her answers.

She came out of the bathroom and crossed the room to her side of the bed. The pale blue nightgown she wore was long enough to trail the floor and flowed around her curves enticingly. Again, he was reminded of how delicate she was; the skin of her shapely arms like alabaster, her cloud of blond hair like spun gold. He smiled at her; if she knew of his semi-poetic ruminations she would be amused at him.

"Hal," she said, smiling warmly back at him as she slipped into bed, "what are you thinking?"

"I thought you'd be able to tell," he replied, moving closer to her. "I thought you'd know I was thinking about how beautiful you are, how much I love you, and how lucky I know I am."

"I'm lucky too," Phoebe said, "to have everything I know I could ever want."

"Including this?" He fingered the chain of the locket she still wore around her neck.

"This," she held up her left hand displaying the simple gold band, "is all the jewelry I'll ever need."

He slid his hand to the back of her neck and undid the chain's clasp easily. Depositing the locket on the nightstand, he leaned over his wife for a kiss.

"The lights," she murmured stoking her thumb over his bottom lip.

"I want to leave them on and rediscover my treasure," Hal whispered. Then he deeply plundered her willing and welcoming mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

The Christening: Chapter Five of Seven

Professor Everett sequestered himself in his office most of the weekend grading exams. He wanted to post test scores by the beginning of the week to avoid receiving calls from anxious students, and to allow additional time to take care of any details for Melissa's christening the following weekend. There was a small house party planned in the backyard after the church ceremony, with only a few friends and family invited. He doubted there would be much left for him to do, with all of the extra help from visiting relatives, but he liked having a clear schedule during spring break anyway.

It was great his brothers had been able to visit the entire week and he wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, not to mention more time with the kids. He was relieved everyone seemed to be getting along so well, and were occupied spending time with one another, but he didn't want to spend all week cooped up with work. Besides, there was a certain strain to having all of their schedules disrupted, and he didn't want Phoebe to be in the position of entertaining or strategizing activities all alone. The fact that she did it well and made it seem effortless was beside the point.

There was a light knock. Phoebe opened the door and stuck her head in the den with a smile.

"Are you done for the day?" she asked. "The children want to start the cookout, and I told them you had me swear I would let you do all of the grilling today."

"I'm finished," he told her triumphantly. "I said I'd have the grades posted by Tuesday, and I'll do that in the morning." He sighed. "Now I can enjoy the rest of the week."

She came into the room, pointing at the earphones on the desk. "Did you need to use those today?"

"Just when Uncle Alfred's played the ukulele right under my window," Hal laughed. "He might still be able to carry a tune, but it doesn't aid in the evaluation of trigonometry calculations."

"It's too bad you missed Uncle Horace's dancing though. He taught Prudence a South Seas dance requiring the use of my grass skirt."

"He didn't wear it, did he?"

"No," she said, with twinkling eyes, "but both of your brothers did try it on...the visual effect was remarkable."

"I can't believe I missed that!" He stood up from his desk chair. "They're not still in costume are they?"

His wife shook her head. "No, but Hal got some moving pictures with your new camera."

"Great. And on the same film with Melissa's homecoming." He came around the desk and they left the room together. "Let's get out there before I miss any more fun."

Hal and Phoebe stopped in the kitchen on their way to the back of the house. Aunt Justine was puttering around the room. She checked on several pots boiling on the stove and then removed a large tray from the refrigerator, placing it on the counter. Seated at the table, Uncle Horace was peeling potatoes with an uncharacteristically grim look.

"You see what that woman has me doin'?" He complained gesturing at Justine with the potato peeler. "She's a regular drill sergeant she is. They could have used her in the RAF."

"I was in the RAF, Horace," Justine reminded him. "You never had a very good memory."

Hal laughed. "I can imagine that's one of the reasons we won the war, Aunt Justine."

"I imagine you are right." She smiled warmly at him and then turned to Horace. "Are you doing that correctly, Horace? I don't want to have to show you that again."

"You forget, my dear," he told her patiently. "Peelin' potatoes is what _I _did during the war."

Justine was about to reply to that when a questioning look crossed her face. Wiping her hands on a towel, she said: "I think the baby needs her dinner."

"I'll see to her, Auntie," Phoebe moved to the bottle warmer. Nodding towards the large tray Justine had placed on the counter she said to Hal, "Those steaks have been marinating long enough. They are just waiting for your very specific grilling technique."

"Then I'll see to those," he replied. With a wink he told Justine and Horace, "These steaks will be so tender that Melissa won't need to grow teeth to eat one."

XXXXXXXXX

The large backyard was one of features that had sold Hal on purchasing the house years ago, and he'd never regretted it. Actually, he had to admit, there were times when he was mowing the lawn, he'd wished for a smaller yard, but at times like this, he was grateful for the space. Usually there wasn't a huge, hot air balloon in the yard, but even with its presence, there was still room for Hal to take golfing pointers from his Uncle Ben, and Butch to play catch with his Uncle Bob. And Prudence's rope skipping was aided by her Aunt Agatha and Uncle Alfred. In fact, both were singing a rhyme with Prudence in time with her jumping:

"Teddy bear, teddy bear turn around

Teddy bear, teddy bear touch the ground

Teddy bear, teddy bear tie your shoes

Teddy bear, teddy bear that will do

Teddy bear, teddy bear go upstairs

Teddy bear, teddy bear say your prayers

Teddy bear, teddy bear turn out the light

Teddy bear, teddy bear say goodnight

G-o-o-d-n-i-g-h-t

Smiling, Hal moved to the grill, thankful to see the charcoal, lighter fluid and matches there. Setting the steaks on the table, he began to make preparations for the fire. Looking around the yard, he noticed both Aunt Henrietta and Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh were missing from the company.

"They went to the market for some last minute necessities," Aunt Agatha answered his unasked question.

"Oh," Hal said, beginning to stack the charcoal. "I could have done that. I don't like to impose on guests."

Alfred paused in his singing. "You were busy, son. Besides this lot aren't "guests"; we're all family."

"Cholmondeley isn't," Hal responded under his breath.

"As good as," Alfred stopped swinging the rope when Prudence missed a skip. "Whew, you are tiring your uncle out now. How's 'bout a quieter game?"

"I'll go get the checkers," the girl told him, rushing into the house.

"I'll help you, dear." Agatha said, following Prudence. "And see if Justine needs any help as well," she told the men.

Alfred sat at the picnic table next to where Hal was preparing the grill. He poured himself a glass of lemonade from the on the table. "Care for any, son?" he asked. The younger man shook his head. Alfred sighed heavily looking thoughtful.

"You know," he began, "in the strictest sense, I'm not family either."

Hal looked at him apologetically. "Uncle Alfred, I never meant to imply that you…"

"No," Alfred wiped at his moustache, "it's true. I'm not a Figalilly." Pausing he looked Hal meaningfully in the eye. "In point of fact, I'm a Featherstonehaugh."

Hal stared at the man, speechless. Nearly burning himself on the match he had lit, he awkwardly dropped it into grill. The prepared charcoals caught the flame and the lighter fluid ignited with a loud whoosh.

Ben called from across the yard. "Watch it there, Hal," he chuckled, "I like my steak medium-rare, not burnt to a crisp."

Hal ignored his brother, bending closer to Uncle Alfred so they wouldn't be overheard. Speaking as if he hadn't heard him correctly he asked, "You are a Featherstonehaugh?"

"The boy's my nephew," Alfred told him. "Our family has been close to the Figalilly family as long as anyone can remember. I was there with Cholmondeley on the day Phoebe was born and they were betrothed."

"Yes, I know," Hal said, annoyed. "And the village had celebrated. It was all pre-ordained, written in the stars…"

"A lovely celebration, son," the man reminisced, "repeated generation after generation. Even my generation had its betrothed."

"Was that Phoebe's mother?"

"No indeed. It was her Aunt Henrietta."

"The prince was a Featherstonehaugh?" Hal asked in alarm. "You mean Cholmondeley is a prince?"

"No, son," Alfred's eyes had a gleam in them; "Henrietta was betrothed to me."

The Professor absorbed that information, "But she didn't marry you," he said slowly, sitting down opposite Alfred at the table. "She broke the tradition."

"That's right. She ran off and married her prince. The family was furious at her, so she traveled the world with him avoiding all of us. She didn't contact a Figalilly or a Featherstonehaugh for many years and said she was miserable so far away from all of us. So when she found out Phoebe had been here so long, and was delaying her marriage to Cholmondeley she tracked her down to find out why. Henrietta didn't want Phoebe to make the same mistake she did."

Finding his voice, Hal said thickly, "Didn't she love the prince? Wasn't she happy with him?"

Alfred shrugged. "Never knew the details, son. Can't say I wanted to know them. I was the jilted one you know and Featherstonehaugh's take their betrothals very seriously." He looked pensive. "I think our Cholmondeley can look forward to the same fate as me: a confirmed bachelor."

Before Hal could speak, Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh and Aunt Henrietta entered the backyard, each with an armful of paper sacks from the market. Removing her long, diaphanous scarf, Henrietta shook her head at them disapprovingly.

"So much to be done, and these two sit about drinking lemonade," thinning her lips she turned to Hal, "Professor, don't you think it is time those steaks were on the grill?"

Following Henrietta into the house, Cholmondeley nodded towards Ben then said to Hal, "Make mine medium-rare too, old man."

XXXXXXXXX

The Goalpost was nearly empty on a Monday night in March. Come fall, the bar would be full to bursting with mobs of football fans crowding in to watch "Monday Night Football" listening with rapt attention to the sonorous voice of Howard Cosell. But tonight, only a few regulars were in attendance, and it was unknown if they were sports fans or merely persistent drinkers. Harold Everett counted himself as a sports fan, but was a social drinker at best. He'd been to the bar with friends, mostly on those Monday nights in the fall. He didn't patronize bars often, and never alone.

However tonight he was breaking with his own tradition. Sitting alone at a small table, he stared down at the dark wood and absently toyed with his glass. Lifting the glass to his mouth, he titled his head back and swallowed the amber liquid. The scotch burned a little, due more to the fact that his throat was dry than to the quality of the liquor. He signaled the young barmaid, raising a finger to request another drink.

The pretty blond brought him his third…or was it his fourth…scotch, smiling brightly at him. It was a slow night, and she'd taken the time to flirt with him a little. She knew the regulars, and specifically knew how much they would tip. This stranger was not only handsome, but looked as if he might show generous appreciation for good service.

"Thanks," he said to her when she placed the fresh drink on the table and had taken away his empty glass. Hal didn't bother to look at her.

"You sure look like you've had a bad day," the girl said, too cheerfully. "Must be woman trouble."

He smirked a little. "Is there any other kind?"

"Man trouble," she said, honestly.

At that he looked up at her and chuckled without mirth. Saluting her with his drink he said, "I guess you could say that too."

"Let me guess," she said in her most sympathetic voice. "Your wife doesn't understand you."

"Wrong," Hal told her. "My wife understands me too well. I just don't understand her. Never did, never will."

The girl batted long, false eyelashes at him. He thought she'd probably be prettier if she didn't wear so much make-up. "Sounds complicated."

He looked down at his drink again. "Yeah."

"You know," she leaned closer to him and said in a low, breathy voice "some women just aren't worth it."

Looking at the young woman again, Hal noticed the color of her hair was fake, a brittle, and brassy blond and not at all like his wife's soft, honey blond strands. And the look on this woman's face was calculating, her eyes and her smile predatory. Phoebe's eyes were warm and guileless; her quick smile bright and always genuine.

"Yes," he agreed, smiling at the young woman, "some women aren't worth it, but my wife is."

The girl moved away from him with a frown. Heading back to the bar, she didn't notice two newcomers enter through the wide front doors. The two men looked around, and after adjusting to the dimness, found who they were looking for sitting alone in the back of the room.

"How's it going, brother?" Bob asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.

Ben took another chair and waved a hand at the barmaid. "I've been thrown out of places a lot better than this," he quipped. "For what it's lacking in atmosphere, the conversation here had better be worth it."

"It's a slow night," Hal told them. "Come back in the fall."

"Why? Will you still be here?" The girl came up to their table and Bob turned to her. "We'll both have what he's having."

Ben watched her as she walked away. "Pretty girl," he remarked.

"I have it on good authority that she knows a lot about relationships," his younger brother said. "I'm sure she'll be very sympathetic if you tell her your wife doesn't understand you."

"I don't have a wife," Ben reminded him.

"Yeah, but I do."

Ben and Bob exchanged a glance. Then Bob said, "You know this from experience? You told this girl your wife doesn't understand you?"

"No. I told her I don't understand my wife." Hal finished his drink, and looked at both of his brothers with narrowed eyes. "Did she tell you I was here?" Without waiting for an answer he said, "Of course she did. She knew I was here. She knows everything."

"Brother," Bob said, suspiciously "how many drinks have you had?"

"I'm not speaking metaphorically," Hal continued, "she does know everything. She knows all sorts of things she shouldn't be able to know. Do you know she can predict the weather? She also talks to animals," he leaned forward on the table and said in a conspiratory whisper, "and understands what they say when they talk back."

Their drinks arrived and Ben sniffed at his scotch. "Whoa. Bob, maybe we shouldn't drink this stuff. Honestly Hal, how much have you had to drink?"

"Doesn't matter," he told his brother. "I'm not drunk. You both don't believe me, but it's true. She knows when the phone is going to ring and who's calling; she knows when the doorbell is going to ring and who's on the other side of the door. And she has an unbelievably uncanny ability to make any situation turn out for the best."

"The best for who?" Bob asked.

"For all concerned. I think she even arranged for both of you to come early because she knew I was uncomfortable with having so many of her family members around." Hal turned to Ben. "She made your deal come though, in your favor." He looked at both of his brothers as they stared at him dubiously. "Look, I've made a real study of this. There is no possible way she can do all of the things she does…her lucky guesses and coincidences fall far outside of any probability curve."

"Maybe she's a witch," Ben joked.

"She believes in witches!" Hal exclaimed, "And in ghosts, astrology, miracles, jinxes, premonitions, dreams, fate, destiny, lucky charms, wiblets..."

"What's a wiblet?" Ben asked.

"It's a thing Prudence used to dream about that Phoebe thought was real because she…" he trailed off looking from one brother to another. "You don't believe me. You think I'm drunk."

"O.K., pal," Bob said, "We believe you. But so far you haven't said anything that doesn't sound like something every other woman hasn't come up with at one time or another. And trying to understand them is like being up Squaw Lake without a paddle."

"Yeah," Ben agreed, "I remember Maggie coming up with some pretty far fetched ideas. Your first wife did too." He shrugged dismissively. "They all think they've got this intuition thing."

"But those were nothing compared to Phoebe's beliefs. Nothing like what she can do." Hal said in a morose tone.

"What are you saying, Hal?" Ben asked. "That you're married to a witch? Like on that TV show? What does she do…twitch her nose and zap up dinner?"

"I always thought that beautiful witch was slumming with her bumbling husband," Bob teased. "Hey Hal, are you the hapless husband in this scenario?"

"Yeah," Ben said with a chuckle, "or does she sleep in a bottle and blink up stuff? Disappear into a puff of smoke or something?"

Hal dropped his head into his hands. "I must sound like I'm crazy."

"Well," Bob agreed, "I will admit that family of hers is kind of kooky. They must have quite the stash to travel around as they do. And whoever heard of using a hot air balloon as a form of transportation!" Laughing he turned to Ben. "Did you know that one aunt…? Aunt Henrietta…is a real princess? And she owns her own circus?"

"They could buy and sell us, brothers," Hal said to them. "Titled, landed…a castle…with a moat."

"Well, Cholmondeley has got to have more resources that the Federal Reserve. Those stamps and those coins…" Ben broke off when he saw Bob shake his head at him in warning. "Still, the guy is kind of strange. What's the deal with finishing everybody's sentences?"

"It's just how the family is," Hal said gloomily.

"And he's part of the family? And the families keep intermarrying?" At Hal's nod, Bob shrugged. "Weird custom."

"If you asked me," Ben said, finishing his drink and gesturing to the barmaid for another. "It's all pretty archaic and they're lucky someone married outside of the "family". They needed to come to the colonies and get new blood circulating in those old genes. It is the twentieth century."

"Tradition means a lot to Phoebe. She loves her family." Hal was swirling what was left of his scotch around the bottom of his glass and watching it as if hypnotized.

"She loves you, brother," Bob said, "and your family. She's devoted to those kids."

"Look," Ben advised, "we Everett's have never discouraged easily once we've made up our mind's we want something. If you're really worried this Cholmondeley is a threat to your family, make sure you treat that Lady right. Buy her some jewelry to compete with that old locket. Buy her a fur, get her a maid."

"Phoebe doesn't care about jewelry," Hal said with a small smile, remembering what she had said about her wedding ring. "It's hard for her to accept help around the house from her family, or even from me. And she would never wear a fur. She loves animals too much. If I let her, we'd have an entire zoo in the backyard. I wouldn't be surprised if she turns the family into vegetarians before long."

"Then take another tactic," Bob said. "Have another baby. Go home and start working on a set of Irish twins. I've never seen a more natural mother, and Melissa can have a baby brother or sister within the year."

"I'd love another baby," his younger brother said, with some longing, "but that's not something I would ever use as a ploy to keep her. I know she loves me and the kids but I'm just afraid that someday the pressure from her family may get to be too much and…" He paused and said thoughtfully. "I just don't ever want her to regret her decision."

"But love is a powerful thing," Ben reminded him.

"So is the belief in fate, destiny, family honor, tradition…" Hal sighed, "and guilt."

XXXXXXXXX

The car waited until Hal was safely inside of the house. He waved at his brothers from the doorway, closing the door quietly behind him. It was late, and he didn't want to wake the household. However, turning to go up the stairs he saw his wife in the foyer, wearing the sensible cotton bathrobe he hadn't seen her wear since her advanced stages of pregnancy. She also wore an unreadable expression on her face.

"Should I curtsey?" Phoebe's voice was held no clue to her mood. "I don't know the appropriate protocol when a Lord enters his own home drunk."

"That's right," Hal said, sitting down on the stairs with a sigh. "I guess I'm titled now too. And I'm not drunk."

Joining him on the stairs she asked: "Do you feel better, now?"

"Better?" He peered at her with slightly reddened eyes.

"Better now that you've had the chance to go off and sulk, like one of the children or like Waldo," she gestured at the sleeping sheep dog lying before the hall closet.

"I wasn't sulking," Hal protested, "I just went out for a quiet talk and a drink with my brothers. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, except you left your brothers here. They had to go out and find you."

"Not difficult when they had you to advise them." He frowned at her. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide anything from you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you need to hide from me?"

"No, but I feel at a distinct disadvantage knowing you can always keep me guessing but I can't disappear for a few hours without my own private Sherlock Holmes deducing my every move."

Phoebe gave him a small smile. "That's just a wife's intuition."

"That's what Ben said all women say," Hal grumbled. "But that's not all you've got." He leaned back on his elbows on the step behind him and considered her. "Six weeks," he mused, "six weeks was how long I thought you'd be in my life."

"That was assuming I was average," she reminded him.

"Well, you certainly are not that." He began to slip into lecturing professor mode. "In mathematics the average is the middle, or the most common in a set of data. There are three types of averages: the mean, the median and the mode. And you, my love, do not fall into any of those definitions. You exist outside of any common set of anything."

"Women, you mean?" At his nod, she continued. "Well, you certainly have enough experience with that sort of data collection: professional women and female students."

"I have never been involved with or interested in any of my students," he asserted.

Phoebe shrugged. "But that hasn't stopped them from being interested in you."

"That doesn't matter."

"I know it doesn't, but it was just a reminder that I do share some traits with "average" females." She stood up and retrieved a brandy snifter from the hall table.

"Hot milk," Hal shook his head. "I should have known. You didn't put Napoleon brandy in there did you?"

"Just aspirin," she handed it to him. "Seems you've had a "slip" tonight, and Uncle Algernon's altered remedy should ward off any problems you might have in the morning."

"I am not drunk and will not have a hangover," he sipped at the milk and made a face. "I wish you'd stop trying to "nanny" me, although tonight you've certainly dressed the part."

"It does seem as if it's been a long six weeks, doesn't it?"

He got to his feet and put the milk back on the table. He noticed the fertility goddess on the table looking at him with unseeing eyes. "Has it been too long?" Hal asked, not looking at her.

"No, it could never be too long, time spent with you." She came up beside him and put her arm around his waist. "What happened that bothered you today?"

"The quicker the dose, the straighter the cure, is that it?" he evaded. Then he turned to her. "Uncle Alfred told me about his being a Featherstonehaugh, and his betrothal to Aunt Henrietta. He also told me that Henrietta regretted her decision to break with family tradition, even to marry a prince, and that's why she wanted to stop you from making the same mistake."

Phoebe bit her lip. "He shouldn't have told you."

"You're right, he shouldn't have told me," her husband agreed "You should have told me. Phoebe, are you always going to feel you need to hide things from me?"

"I…I wasn't hiding it from you, I just didn't want you to feel…"

"That someday you might regret marrying me? But that is what I feel. Your not telling me led me to believe that you also feel you might regret…"

"No, never," she looked up at him with sudden tears in her eyes. "When Aunt Henrietta made her decision, she fled from the family…both families…and that is what I have been trying to avoid. I haven't stayed away from them, I've invited them here, let them get to know you, know the children…it's why I wanted them to come for Melissa's christening. I wanted them to understand my choice."

"To break with tradition and marry me?" Hal asked gently, brushing a tear from her cheek.

"Yes," she slipped both arms around him then and pressed her cheek to his broad chest. "Do you remember when I received a letter…the one…the one that made me cry?"

Stroking her soft hair, he murmured, "Yes."

"Well, it was a letter from Aunt Henrietta telling me that both families were insisting I leave here immediately to fulfill my duty to them. I was, in effect, being ordered to return to the village and marry Cholmondeley. I knew the day was coming, but I also knew I wasn't ready to marry. I was so very happy here; I felt needed, felt as if I belonged."

"We were all worried you would leave us," he said quietly.

"And you were all so kind and thoughtful to me," he could tell fresh tears had started again, "it made me happy to feel so cared for, yet sad to know I would have to leave you all so soon. Then I received a letter from Cholmondeley telling me that he had intervened with both families. He told me I should not feel rushed or pressured, and when I was ready to marry, he was the one I should tell."

"That was generous of him," Hal said sincerely. "I don't know if I could have been so generous."

"Of course he didn't know I was falling in love with you," Phoebe said with a catch in her voice. "I didn't even know, really. And I avoided the truth until Cholmondeley's visit…"

"So did I," her husband told her, "and for far too long afterwards." He took her face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. She tasted of salty tears. "Don't cry," he whispered. "I know I promised things in your past didn't matter, and they don't… until they interfere with the present. I still have many questions I want to ask you, and I'm finding I can't keep the promise not to ask any longer. I want to know you, know all about you, even if that knowledge is sometimes unsettling."

"I should have known that," she told him with a shaky smile. "Your scientific mind would never let you leave a puzzle alone for too long. That's not the way you are."

"Right," Hal said, tightening his embrace. "I can't leave this puzzle alone. Although something tells me I'll never figure out all of your nuances, I have to remember the joy is in the journey, the discovery. Each answer leads to another question. That's what makes science exciting, and that's what makes life with you exciting. I may rarely find concrete solutions, or proof I can hold in my hands, so sometimes I just have to let it all go and…"

"Enjoy," his wife's smile was warm and bright at him now, "and exchange some of that intellectual curiosity for peace of mind."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "It's late. Let's go to bed."

Phoebe slipped out of his embrace and took his hand to lead him up the stairs. "By the way," she said, "I'm wearing this robe for my auntie's benefit. They both remarked they don't want me to catch a chill."

"I won't let you get cold," Hal told her. Reaching out, he took hold of the fertility statue to bring it along to their bedroom. He didn't believe in talisman but a little extra insurance never hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

The Christening: Chapter Six of Seven

The backyard looked great for early spring. The grass was unseasonably green, and the roses, coaxed into blooming by Phoebe, made lovely ornamentation to the white lattice gate. The hot air balloon was festively decorated as well, with flowers and streamers, looking less out of place than would have seemed possible. The menagerie was also spruced up for the occasion, all pens cleaned and cages garnished, giving their area more the appearance of a petting zoo than a backyard. Even Waldo was professionally groomed, self-consciously sporting a wide, red bow.

"Don't worry about it, old man," Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh had said to the sheep dog in confidence, "it's only for the weekend. And Melissa does like you to look your best, you know."

The boys had enlisted the help of their Uncle Bob and their Uncle Bentley to ensure all three household cars looked their best. Arabella sparkled, and both Phoebe's convertible and the station wagon were buffed to a respectable shine. The house itself had been given a thorough spring cleaning by the entire family. There wasn't an unwashed window or a dusty rug anywhere, Aunt Justine had seen to that.

By Saturday everything was in place for the Christening party on Sunday, including a freezer, refrigerator and pantry full of food. That evening a family dinner was planned for what Phoebe had explained was a private gift giving for the baby. It was another Figalilly tradition.

"Everyone has done so much already," Hal said to her as they were dressing for dinner, "I feel as if we can't accept anything more."

"But they've all had such a marvelous time," Phoebe told him, slipping on her shoes, "believe me, there is nothing a Figalilly enjoys more than feeling useful. Even Uncle Horace, who has made a career out of not having a job, loves helping out. And Uncle Alfred hasn't complained once about his arthritis."

"I'm glad you decided to accept some household help." He smiled at her fondly then grinned. "But I did hear Ben say he'd rather have hired a cleaning crew than do the work."

"And miss out on spending so much time with the boys and Prudence?" She showed surprise. "No, there is no better way of bonding than completing a task together. The children have had such a wonderful time with everyone they never grumbled about the work. This is the most productive spring break they have ever had."

"We all certainly accomplished a lot as a family," Hal agreed, accepting her help securing the knot in his tie. "I wouldn't have believed we could have all spent this much time together without a disaster occurring." At the wary look in her eye, he continued, "Well, at least without a major disaster occurring."

Phoebe smiled. "I told you to have faith in the rightness of things. I knew that given the opportunity, everyone would get along and accept each other."

"Oh?" Now it was his turn to give her a doubtful look. "I seem to remember you having a misgiving or two."

"Did I? I don't remember," she said, vaguely. With a raised eyebrow she handed him her antique locket. "Would you mind…?"

"If you wore it, or helping you put it on?" He smiled as she hesitated answering. Taking the jewelry from her, he placed it around her neck and then bent to kiss her lips lightly. "It suits you. You make this locket look even lovelier."

She returned his smile affectionately. "Thank you," she said. "Now you make sure the boys and Prudence are dressed for dinner while I finish getting the baby ready. We want to make sure the remainder of our family visit is spent in absolute harmony."

XXXXXXXXX

Phoebe had prepared the dinner, but Agatha and Justine were putting the finishing touches on dessert. They exchanged glances seconds before they heard the front door bang open and the high voice of their sister reached them.

"Hallo all," Henrietta sang out. "Where is everyone on this glorious eve?"

She entered the kitchen before anyone could answer. "I must be early," she said to the ladies, "I see no gentlemen or children anywhere."

"No one has arrived from the motel and Phoebe and the rest of her family are upstairs dressing for dinner," As Henrietta peered at the parfait preparations, Justine gave her a guarded look. "You will be on your best behavior tonight, won't you Henrietta?"

"Me?" Henrietta sounded shocked. "Justine, have I done anything to lead you to believe that my manners are anything but impeccable?"

"You know very well you let out a few family secrets this week," Justine said. "And that created some friction between Phoebe and her husband. This is a very happy family and I would like it to remain that way."

"Can I help it if she chose not to share some things with the Professor?" Henrietta sniffed. "How was I to know that she hadn't trusted him enough to share everything about the family?"

"Perhaps she wanted to tell him things in her own good time, dear," Agatha said.

"We can be a bit…overwhelming…to outsiders."

"My point exactly," Henrietta said with a firm nod. "And if she cannot trust him…"

"No one said that," Justine interrupted. "But you must give her time; give them time, to sort things out."

"She wouldn't be in this predicament if she had honored the wishes of her family. She would never have to explain herself or her family to Cholmondeley."

Justine sighed. "I wish you could just accept how very happy she is, Henrietta."

"Oh yes," Agatha agreed enthusiastically. "Our girl is so happy and content with her life now. Can't you understand this is her choice, my girl?"

"Yes. I understand her choice better than either of you. And I understand the consequences she faces." Changing the subject, Henrietta looked around the kitchen. "Now, is there anything I can do to help?"

Turning back to the desserts, Justine shook her head. "I think you've already helped enough, Henrietta."

XXXXXXXXX

After dinner the two families reassembled in the living room for their last evening together. All of the relatives would be leaving after the christening party, and this would be the final family gathering, at least for a long while. There was almost a ceremonial feeling to the arrangement, in the room: the three older Everett children sat on the sofa, their Uncle Bob and their Uncle Ben seated on one loveseat, their parents and Melissa on the other. Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh and Uncle Alfred each sat in an armchair, and the remaining Figalilly's stood.

"Now, as the eldest Figalilly present," Aunt Agatha hesitated as if waiting for an objection, then continued, "I have a letter from Phoebe's parents to present to her…ah, to them."

Thanking her aunt, Phoebe opened the letter and read:

"Dearest Children,

As we cannot be present for the Christening of your daughter, our newborn, beloved granddaughter Melissa Figalilly Everett, we send our greetings and our love. This letter welcomes not only Melissa to our family, but also Harold Jr., Bentley and Prudence Everett. The love we have for our grandchildren cannot be expressed in a letter, although we send them our deepest devotion. Please allow us the joy to grant each of our grandchildren the security of an equal share and stake in all that we have in material possession.

We hope to see all of you very soon as we cannot wait to embrace each of our dear children and our beloved grandchildren in love.

Mother and Father"

With tears in her eyes, Phoebe looked at her aunt. "Thank you for bringing this, Aunt Agatha. I can't tell you what this means to me."

"They adore you, Phoebe," Agatha said to her, and with shining eyes, kissed her niece's cheek.

"Gee, Dad," Hal said, swallowing hard. He glanced at his brother and sister. "What do we say?"

"You say, "thank you", his father told him. Putting his arm around his wife, he kissed her temple and said, "We'll plan a trip this summer, I promise."

Looking into his eyes, she nodded and gave him a shaky smile, "Thank you," she whispered.

"Now for my gift," Aunt Agatha moved to stand before Melissa. From her mother's arms the child looked up at her great-aunt with wide, innocent, blue eyes. "Melissa, I bless the beauty you now possess and will forever possess; from the inside of your being. I bless you with love, my darling; the love of others and also the love, self-assurance and understanding of yourself." She kissed the child lightly on her head.

Uncle Horace cleared his throat and breaking the mood at bit began, "As the _second _oldest Figalilly present, I give my gift to Melissa." He took his place before the child and eye to eye with her said, "Melissa, I bless you with joy and love of life. May the fun you find during your childhood never leave you, and may you never take life, or yourself, too seriously." Then he kissed her on the cheek with a resounding smack.

Aunt Justine crossed to Horace's side and leaning over Melissa looked deeply into the small girl's eyes saying softly, "Melissa, I bless you with keeping the wisdom and intelligence that is yours now, my dear; and to keep the clear, rational part of your mind that you were born with." She glanced up at Hal, who gave her a small smile. "I also bless you with faith: faith in yourself, in humankind, and in the rightness of things." Justine kissed the baby's smooth cheek gently.

Justine glanced at Uncle Alfred. "Oh," the man said, "is it my turn? Blimey, I think we're out of order according to age, my dear Justine." Rising to his feet, he took a moment to straighten up, rubbing at his lower back a little. "Just a touch of stiffness kids," he told the three on the sofa.

Standing in front of Melissa, Alfred bent forward and looked at her closely. The baby sucked at her pacifier and peered directly into the man's kindly blue eyes. Softly the man said to her, "You're a beauty, my girl." Then, "Melissa, I bless you with the gift of wanderlust: of loving exotic lands and people, of the joy of discovering new places and experiences" To her parents he said, "Of course, not until she's old enough to travel with her Uncle Alfred." He continued, speaking to the baby, "Melissa, I also bless you with compassion. The compassion for all living things: people and plants and animals. And with that menagerie of pets you've got, that won't be a difficult thing for you to achieve, my love." He winked at the child and kissed her delicately on the top of her downy head.

Aunt Henrietta then came forward, and kneeling before Melissa held the baby's gaze and said, "Melissa, my treasure, I bless you with your own innate sense of grace and charm, which you come by naturally." She glanced at Phoebe, and then continued, "I also bless you maintain your inborn gifts of insight, foresight and deep intuition. May these blessings serve you throughout your long, happy and healthy life." She kissed the baby's cheek and smiled at her.

"I also have another gift for this child." Standing, Henrietta removed a piece of paper from the pocket of her fluttering, silk robe and presented it to Phoebe. "This is an agreement between the Figalilly family and the Featherstonehaugh family authenticating Melissa's betrothal to the first male Featherstonehaugh born within the year." Turning to Cholmondeley she said, "I believe you are to be an uncle in May. Assessing their astrological charts, it appears a female Capricorn and a male Taurus will be most compatible. My strong intuition tells me this new Featherstonehaugh will be a boy and our Melissa is to be his wife."

Hal stood up, towering over Henrietta. "What?"

"Henrietta!" Agatha said, shocked.

"Your daughter is betrothed in a marriage contract, Professor," Henrietta said, calmly. "Since your wife broke with our family's tradition, it befalls your daughter to uphold the tradition in her generation. Of course, not being raised in our village may be a disadvantage to her, but she can visit…"

"No," Hal's tone gave no room for discussion.

"Henrietta," Justine said firmly, "you cannot interfere."

"You don't understand," Henrietta continued speaking to Hal, "this is a tradition passed on from generation to generation and must be continued. Melissa is the first female child born of this generation and it is her duty…"

"No!" he was nearly shouting.

Under his breath Ben said to Bob, "I don't know if we should hold back Hurricane Hal or hold his coat."

"We can't allow this Henrietta…" Horace began.

"I assure you it is a great honor…" Henrietta was saying.

"Absolutely not!" Hal stared at Henrietta in horror. "I will never, never allow my daughter to be part of something as medieval, as archaic, and as humiliating as a marriage contract! I don't care what your family's traditions were or are my child will not be part of them! Do you understand me?"

"She is also Phoebe's child," Henrietta objected.

"Do you understand me?" he shouted, his face had darkened and his eyes were blazing.

Melissa began to cry. Phoebe stood, rocking the baby gently and patting her back to soothe her. Quietly she said, "Aunt Henrietta, you must understand that what you are suggesting is impossible. We cannot allow…"

"You cannot allow?" Henrietta said to her coldly. "You are the reason this child is to be betrothed. If you hadn't defied your obligation…"

"Like you did?" Alfred asked. "Tell her, Henrietta. Tell Phoebe the reason you were so against her marriage. Tell her why you won't accept it."

"Phoebe knows I didn't want her to regret her decision like I did," she said, "and that I was sorry I went against the wishes of my family."

"No, that isn't it," Cholmondeley said, rising. "Henrietta believed if she ensured the next generation's betrothal occurred it would cancel her debt of honor to the family. And because she felt guilty, she believed Phoebe would feel the same way and agree to her own daughter fulfilling the next generation's marriage contract."

"Is that was why you came here?" Phoebe asked her aunt. "Why you moved here? Why you told me I was letting life drain me, and I was in a dreary rut? You wanted to make me leave; going so far to tell me you had a premonition of danger to me…"

"There was a danger to you," Henrietta said, looking at Hal.

"And why immediately after she arrived here she sent for me." Cholmondeley said.

"To take Phoebe away and fulfill the marriage agreement," Hal said thoughtfully.

"Were you that unhappy, old girl?" Alfred asked Henrietta.

"No," she answered truthfully. Looking at Phoebe she said, "I was very happy with my husband and my life, but miserable with how it affected the family. So naturally I thought…"

"But don't you see, Aunt Henrietta," Phoebe told her, "I didn't run away from the family. I love you all, but I also love Hal and my chosen life. It hasn't always been easy, but I have wanted you all together. You are all my family."

"But the tradition…? What about Melissa's future?" Henrietta looked at her great-niece with deep affection.

"The tradition was to ensure the next generation was loved and cared for in a family that could be trusted to pass on strong values. That was the reason for the marriage contract." Phoebe replied. "Melissa was just blessed with love and wishes from all of you. She belongs to a very loving and caring family. When the time comes for her to marry, she will make her own choice and I can only hope she makes as good a choice as I did. Or you did, Auntie."

"A modern woman," Henrietta shook her head.

"A strong woman capable of making her own choices," Phoebe said. Looking at Prudence she said, "I want that for both of my daughters."

"It's a wonderful thing," Agatha chimed in, nodding to Prudence, "being a modern woman."

"There is one more gift for this new modern woman," Cholmondeley said. Crossing to Phoebe he reached for the gold locket around her neck. He opened it revealing a tiny portrait of a woman: a beautiful, light haired woman with delicate features and spectacular eyes.

"She looks familiar," Hal mused peering at the portrait. "She looks like Phoebe yet…"

"It is Melissa," Cholmondeley announced.

"You had the portrait made?" Phoebe asked.

"No," he told her. Speaking to everyone he said, "This locket has been in my family for generations. It had been in the vault, waiting for my wedding day for me to give it to my beloved. When that day didn't happen, I still decided to give this to Phoebe as I had always thought of it as belonging to her. And it does belong to her. The portrait in it is of her daughter…Hal's daughter. Theirs was the marriage that was preordained. Their child, their modern child, was predestined. It was kismet: that which is written in the stars, the face of destiny."

"After all of the gifts Melissa was given tonight," Henrietta said contemplatively, looking at the portrait and then looking at her great-niece, "this child's gift to give is to unite two very, very different families."

"I can't believe it," Hal murmured, staring at the miniature antique portrait of an adult woman. A woman with their baby daughter's face: the face of their destiny.

"Yet, here it is," Phoebe said, smiling at him. "Concrete proof. Something you can hold in your hands."

He cupped the locket gently, shaking his head, and then cupped the back of Melissa's head gazing into her eyes. Then looking at his wife he echoed, "Something I can hold in my hands."

XXXXXXXXX

Later that evening when Cholmondeley suggested an evening constitutional, Hal agreed to go with him. They walked along the quiet street on the cool March evening, the fresh air welcome.

"I can imagine all of this has been very hard for you to accept," Cholmondeley began.

"Do you mean the business with the locket?" Hal asked.

"That and…well, all of it actually. The Figalilly and Featherstonehaugh families can be quite difficult to get used to. Our strange abilities…."

"…to finish other people's sentences," Hal interrupted.

"Yes," his companion said, "or to…"

"…predict the weather? Talk to animals?"

Cholmondeley smiled. "We may make you one of us yet."

Chuckling, Hal said, "You know, it did take me a while to accept some of the things Phoebe could do, the things she believed in. I spent a lot of time trying to puzzle out how she did what she did or knew the things she knew until I decided I just had to accept her."

"And just love her," Cholmondeley said with a small smile.

"Yes." Glancing at the other man as they walked he said, "You know, I never tried to change her or censor her. Her abilities never frightened me and I wasn't embarrassed or even made uncomfortable by them. I respected her and she fascinated me, she still does. She is an enigma that has been my greatest joy to discover and rediscover. I guess it doesn't hurt that she is charming and beautiful."

"There are no others like her, my friend. I don't blame you for being possessive."

"Don't misunderstand." Hal told him. "I have never thought of her as my property, as you suggested. And I realize my jealousy is an irrational response brought on my own insecurities. My own inability to understand her as well as I want to or need to. She has given me no reason to doubt her, and therefore there is no logic behind my feelings."

"Spoken like a true scientist," Cholmondeley said, "and you are quite right. I have always respected her as well. I respected her choice not to marry me." He was reflective a moment. "I knew she would never marry me after I had seen her here with you and with your children. I knew then she loved you and would never leave you."

"I have to thank you for that."

"Sir?"

"Your visit, the one that Aunt Henrietta arranged for you to take Phoebe away and marry her. That was when I started to face my real feelings for her." Hal admitted.

"So I am to blame for the unraveling of my own future," he mused.

"No," the Professor shook his head, "I don't think that's true. I know I would have had to face my feelings, and so would she, sooner or later. You said yourself our marriage was

preordained. So I think that means it must be the right thing for your future too."

Cholmondeley stopped on the street and turned to Hal astonished. "My dear Professor Everett, I do believe we have made you into one of us!"


	7. Chapter 7

The Christening: Chapter Seven of Seven

It was late Sunday afternoon when the last of the guests left the house party and the family began their leave taking. Bob and Ben had already said their goodbyes to the Figalilly family, Phoebe and all of the kids, and now Hal was seeing them out to Ben's car.

"Got to head out now if we're both to make it home before it's too late," Ben said, readjusting suitcases in the trunk. "It's three hours to Bob's, then another two till I get home. And we've both got work in the morning."

"Me too," Hal replied. "I can't say this has been the most relaxing spring break I've ever spent, but it has got to be one of the most rewarding."

"Rewarding for us too, brother," Bob said to him. "Meeting your wife's family was an experience we won't forget. Not that anyone would believe the stories we have to tell."

"Thanks for everything," Hal told them both, "We all loved seeing you and the kids appreciate all of the gifts."

"You know, Ben and I thought we had all of your kids covered for a secure future," Bob said with a grin. "Stock in his company, bonds, even trust funds. But us poor Everett's can't compete with titles, old money and a castle...with a moat."

"Or an "in" at Oxford," Ben included.

"The kids have a lot more than that," Hal remarked truthfully, "they have two loving uncles that spend time with them. That's more important than any material possession."

"You know, Hal," Ben said pensively, "you once told me I was buying my way through life, even trying to buy love. I resented hearing that, but I listened. And I knew your kids valued family more than things by how much love they gave to me. I considered you fortunate then. But now I realize just how affluent you really are: the titles, money, and property you now have all means nothing to you. Your real wealth is in love."

"In that I do have an embarrassment of riches," Hal agreed.

"Well," Bob said, embracing him, "maybe Ben and I can learn something from our kid brother. And if Aunt Agatha can still look for true love from a balloon, maybe it's not too late for us."

"Never too late," Hal said.

Closing the trunk, Ben pulled his younger brother into a hug, "Take care of those four, great kids and that beautiful, bewitching wife."

"I will," he grinned. "You can count on that."

Hal watched as his brothers drove away, trying to ward off a wave of sentimental melancholy at saying goodbye. Not knowing when he would see them again, he hoped one or both of them would contact him in the near future, telling him the family was going to expand to include a new sister-in-law. He knew he'd been more than fortunate in finding not one, but two wonderful women to marry, and he wished some of that good luck for his brothers.

Heading towards the back of the house, Hal was prepared to help Aunt Justine and Aunt Agatha ready their balloon for take off. Earlier the ladies had organized their supplies and checked their equipment and were now making their rounds of goodbyes to the children and the rest of the family in the house. He entered the back yard to find them dressed in their travel clothes and talking earnestly to Phoebe. His wife was holding the baby close to her aunts so they could say their goodbyes.

"Goodbye our lovely Melissa," Justine was saying with a kiss to the baby's brow. "We will see you soon. Phoebe," she told her niece, "you must send us photographs, dear."

"I will, Auntie," Phoebe said to her, "if you two ever alight long enough at one address to receive them."

"Oh, our mail will find us," Aunt Agatha replied, placing a kiss on her niece's cheek, "although we might get a bit behind in correspondence. We do like to see how much the children are growing." Kissing the baby on her forehead she said. "Now be a good girl, our Melissa."

"Do you have to leave so soon?" Hal asked as he approached.

"Oh my, yes Harold," Justine said. Wetting her finger she tested the wind. "The wind is just right for takeoff and it doesn't do to depart too close to Cholmondeley's leaving."

At his puzzled look Phoebe said, "Cholmondeley has an effect on the weather, Sweetheart."

"Oh," was his mild reply.

"Come and say goodbye, dears," Agatha said enthusiastically holding out her arms. Embracing both of them in turn she remarked, "Take good care of each other and those darling children. I expect to be back for another special occasion soon."

"Agatha," Justine said warningly, "just get in the balloon, dear."

As Hal helped Agatha ascend the ladder, Justine hugged Phoebe tightly, and then stroked Melissa's cheek in farewell. "We'll be seeing you soon, my sweet. We'll send you a note from Alaska."

"Alaska?" Hal asked, assisting her into the balloon's basket. "Why, Alaska?"

"For the polar bears, dear," she answered.

"Yes," Agatha confirmed, "we've never seen them in the wild."

"The days will be longer there soon," Justine remarked. "And it's beautiful there."

Placing the ladder into the basket Hal laughed. "We'll have to go there sometime."

"Oh yes," Phoebe told him, "it is so lovely there, and the children would love it. An unspoiled wilderness, pristine glaciers…"

Lifting the anchor and handing it to Justine, he looked at his wife with a raised brow, "Let me guess, you've been there?"

"Well, yes, I…" she smiled and with a sparkle in her eyes said, "But I haven't been there with you."

Hal grinned at her, and leaning into the balloon's basket kissed each aunt goodbye. "Thank you for everything. Come back anytime, Ladies," he said.

As the balloon left the ground, they waved and watched it lift higher and higher into the air. It became smaller and smaller, floating gently in a westerly direction.

Head tilted back, Phoebe said wistfully, "High above this rushed and weary world."

"Alaska, huh?" her husband said. "Traveling by balloon?" Placing his arm around her shoulders, he teased into her ear. "Maybe we can go ballooning someday; it is such a slow and romantic way to travel. I take it you've also been to Hawaii?"

She gave him a charming smile. "Not with you. And Hawaii does have the most glorious sunsets."

"Seen from a balloon?" Not waiting for her answer Hal replied. "Maybe next spring break we can pack some suntan lotion and I can see for myself."

Provocatively she asked, "And my bikini?"

He shook his head and with a wink answered her with a question, "Now where is your sense of adventure, my love?"

XXXXXXXXX

Uncle Horace and Uncle Alfred were seasoned travelers that packed light, but their battered suitcases looked full and heavy. Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh was also a veteran traveler, and his suitcase looked as if it was as light as an overnight case. All three bags were in the foyer waiting for the gentlemen to depart as the men themselves were in the living room saying goodbye to the children.

"Oh, the islands aren't what they used to be," Uncle Horace was lamenting, "what was once a male paradise is now just another warm place to live."

"Since those ladies heard about this here liberation," Uncle Alfred agreed, "they all expect their equal rights. Almost doesn't seem worth the trip."

"Still," Horace winked at the Cholmondeley and the two boys, "can't find prettier women anywhere." To Prudence he amended, "An exception to the present company." Then he looked up as Phoebe entered the room carrying Melissa, "And of course including your lovely mother and sister."

"Uncle Horace," Phoebe said warily, "just what are you telling the children?"

"Just that the South Seas aren't what they used to be and women everywhere are in revolt."

"Revolting women," Alfred confirmed with a nod.

"Uncle Alfred!" Phoebe said in alarm.

"Didn't mean a thing by it, Phebe old girl," the old man said twitching his moustache and hiding a smile. "I didn't mean a thing! Besides, the place is wonderful for my arthritis. We've been trying to convince Cholmondeley here to join us."

"Looking for where the next "there" is?" Hal asked, as he sat on the sofa arm next to his wife and baby daughter.

"Looking for my destiny," Cholmondeley said with a smile.

"Then how fortunate I happened to return," Aunt Henrietta had taken her leave from the party hours before, and her reappearance was unexpected.

Horace leaned towards Hal and said in a low voice, "I told you to look out for them clinkers, didn't I?"

Giving Horace a withering look, Henrietta turned again to Cholmondeley. "My boy," she began, "you know my specialties include tarot cards, tea leaves, séances and trances… which do you prefer?"

"Not another séance," Hal muttered to Phoebe.

"Don't you need your crystal ball?" Butch said in a teasing tone.

Henrietta regarded him. "Not necessarily," she said, 'all I need is my own concentration to look into another's inner being to assess what path they should take. Phoebe, do you have your cards?"

"I'm afraid not, Aunt Henrietta," she said, bouncing Melissa gently on her shoulder.

"Then perhaps you should make this boy some tea? In fact, we could all have some tea and I could read everyone's leaves." She gestured to include the room.

"Hey, yeah," Butch enthused. From her place on the floor Prudence jumped up with shining eyes, nodding.

"Oh brother," young Hal exclaimed. "Count me out."

"Look everyone," their father said getting to his feet. "I'd be happy to make the tea, and even provide the scones, but as for reading, maybe we should all just stick to books."

"Quite the limited notion," Henrietta said dismissively. "Besides, this boy needs his future looked into. I can't do that with a scone."

Shifting the baby to her other shoulder, Phoebe considered Cholmondeley. "Perhaps what he needs is time to consider his options." She smiled. "Travel has always been a tonic to the people of our village, and I believe Uncle Horace and Uncle Alfred are correct. A trip to the South Seas may be just what Cholmondeley requires to find his destiny or at least to find the path to his destiny."

"Perhaps even my true love?" Cholmondeley asked her.

"Any woman would be proud to be the wife of Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh," she told him gently. "However, your destiny didn't exist for you in a family vault, or in the family marriage contract." She looked up at her husband. "We all have to find our own destiny Cholmondeley, and with all respect to Aunt Henrietta and her abilities, you won't find it in the bottom of a tea cup." Rising, Phoebe said briskly, "Now all of this talk about tea has made me hungry. And a bit of late afternoon tea sounds like it would be just the thing!"

XXXXXXXXX

During tea, Melissa finished her bottle and fell asleep. Phoebe had taken the baby to the nursery and was on her way back to the kitchen when she was met in the foyer by Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh.

"I thought you might be pleased to know that I have agreed to join Uncle Alfred and Uncle Horace," he said. "A change of climate might be good for me, and they promised I wouldn't have a dull moment."

"I can assure you of that," Phoebe told him, smiling.

After a moment Cholmondeley said, "I am very glad you are happy, dear Phoebe. I have always wanted what was best for you."

"I know. I want what is best for you too," she took his hand and looked into his eyes with open frankness. "I never meant to hurt you and I am sorry if I did. I never planned this, but I had to listen to my heart and do what was best for both of us…for all of us. Because of the locket we know our marriage was not preordained and would have been a mistake. So not only is my marriage the right thing for me and for Hal, but it must be the right thing for your future too."

Cholmondeley looked at her with a small smile. "Your Professor said exactly the same thing last night."

"He did?" Phoebe was surprised. "Then what more proof do we need?"

Just then Hal entered the foyer from the kitchen and seeing the two, stopped mid-stride. "Oh," he said to his wife, startled. "I was looking for you. Your uncles are ready to leave and…"

"We were just saying goodbye," she told him, releasing Cholmondeley's hand and moving to take Hal's arm. "He is off to find his destiny."

"And so are we, Phoebe love," Uncle Horace said cheerfully. Uncle Alfred, Aunt Henrietta and the children trailed him. "We've got a ship to catch."

"Can I take you anywhere?" Hal asked.

"No, son," Alfred answered. "We like to go our own way. We'll find assistance if we need it." He reached to shake the boys' hands and kissed Prudence and Phoebe on the cheek. He pumped the Professor's hand in farewell then turned at last to Aunt Henrietta.

"Goodbye, old girl," he said holding out his hand.

"Alfred," she said, in her formal tone, "I hope we meet again sometime. But if chance does not favor us I would like to say," she hesitated, "that I am sorry for the past and I regret any…inconvenience…I may have caused you."

"Oh that," Alfred's moustache twitched, "don't give it another thought. It all worked out for the best, you see. You got to be a princess, and I got to travel the world. Confidentially," he said to her in a low tone, that everyone could hear, "I don't think we would've worked out…do you?"

"Probably not," Henrietta said with a smile. "Still, it is best to clear the air. Even after so long a time."

"It is that, my girl," he agreed, "it is that." Taking her hand, he kissed it and winked.

"All right, all right," Horace said, impatiently, "time to go." He hugged his sister and his niece, kissed Prudence's cheek and shook the boys' hands. "Be good you lot. We'll be seeing you." He shook Hal's hand and moved towards the door.

"Goodbye, all," Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh said, nodding to the boys and accepting Prudence's hug. "Professor," he shook Hal's hand with a smile, "I still consider you a member of my family."

"So do I," Hal admitted to him.

"Take good care of them, of her." He smiled at the other man's nod. To Phoebe he said, "And you take good care of them as well, and of him."

"I certainly will," Phoebe said to him, "Goodbye, dear Cholmondeley, Uncle Alfred, Uncle Horace," She called and waved with the rest of the family as the three men left amid a crack of thunder and a torrent of sudden rain.

Aunt Henrietta turned to the family gathered in the foyer. "It is time I took my leave as well," she briefly hugged her niece then turned to the Professor and extended her hand. He took it.

"Harold," she said, surprising him by using his first name, "I have wanted to tell you this: of all of the gifts your daughter received on her christening, you have given her the best gift of all."

"I have?" he asked, perplexed. "What gift did I give Melissa?"

"The best gift a father can give to his children," Henrietta told him, including the other three children in her glance, "is to love their mother." She looked at Phoebe meaningfully. "And that you love their mother deeply is undeniable. I thank you for that."

"No," Hal said, touched. "I thank you, Aunt Henrietta, for understanding."

The lady gave him a small smile as she adjusted her scarves around her head. Opening the door she said, breezily, "Oh dear, it is still raining. I must dash to my car. Goodnight all!"

XXXXXXXXX

The house was quiet. Everyone had gone to bed early in an effort to get back to their regular schedules after the spring break. Even Melissa had fallen asleep more quickly than usual, not staying awake long enough to complete her evening bottle. She would be up in a few hours, but for now her parents were spending some peaceful and uninterrupted time alone together.

In the restful atmosphere of their bedroom, Phoebe lay with her head on Hal's chest, his left arm across her shoulders. The fingers of their left hands were entwined and she watched as the low light from the bedside table glinted off their wedding bands. The circle of the rings signified eternity, and she knew no matter how many lifetimes she lived, she'd want to spend all of them with him.

"You know," Hal said, his deep voice teasing, "For a woman nearly one hundred and ten years old, you certainly have kept yourself in excellent shape."

Frowning, she lifted her head to look into his sleepy bedroom blue eyes. "One hundred and ten?"

"That's what your passport says;" he stroked her smooth cheek gently, "at least that's what the boys said it says. We can check it out – unless it has mysteriously disappeared."

"What made you think about that, now?"

Combing through her mused hair with his fingers, he reflected, "Oh, it just seems that you never get any older and I want to live a long life with you. Of course, it won't do if I keep aging…"

"You seem spry enough," Phoebe ruffled the dark hair on his chest, "and I don't see any gray hair here, yet."

"You, the kids, and the rest of your family are working on that," he remarked, softening his words with a smile.

She raised herself up on one elbow and lifted her brow. "Are you saying I'm aging you?"

"No," Hal leaned forward to kiss her nose, "I'm saying you are ageless."

"That's better." She placed a kiss on his chest before resting her head there again. "Coincidentally, I was just thinking I want us to be together a long time – many, many more lifetimes in fact."

"Your influence on me must have improved my intuition if we are thinking the same thing." Then Hal gave a soft groan. "Don't tell me you believe in reincarnation?"

"That surprises you?"

"I guess not." He had the sudden memory of a neighbor's book on the occult that had two suspicious drawings: one of a witch that looked like Phoebe; and another of a demon that looked like him. Lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes again, he said, "Phoebe, how can you believe in reincarnation – coming back as someone else after you die – and ghosts? Aren't ghosts the disembodied spirit of one person after death?"

Eyes twinkling, she explained, "I'd like to think that in the afterlife, just as it is in life, you make your own choices."

"As usual, I can't tell if you actually believe that, or if you're teasing me."

"I'll always keep you guessing," Phoebe told him with a shy smile, "but you'll know when I'm teasing you." She moved closer and caressed his cheek slowly with small, delicate fingers. "I do believe in choices," she whispered.

Hal caught her hand and kissed her palm. "And I am forever grateful for the choice you made." Holding her gaze, he considered her for a long moment. "Choices in life and in the afterlife," he mused. "How can an Oxford graduate believe that? What exactly did you study there? Metaphysics? Parapsychology?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I studied physics and mathematics and that my thesis was on the mathematical probabilities of the impossible?"

"Yes," he said with a low chuckle, "I'd believe it, but I'd have to see it first."

"Proof you can hold in your hands?" Phoebe asked.

Pulling her slight frame on top of him, he slid both of his hands up and down the silky skin of her back tracing invisible patterns there. He was rewarded when Phoebe shivered under his touch. Lowering his voice Hal whispered, "Holding the proof in my hands." Meeting her inviting lips, he kissed her deeply for a long moment before breaking off their kiss to look into her eyes again.

"One thing I have to know," he said, his voice still soft, "with all of the choices you must have had in life – why did you choose a career taking care of children?"

Matching his quiet tone, Phoebe told him, "I don't think there is a more important or rewarding effort than caring for the next generation. After all, they are the ones inheriting the world and should be prepared to be its guardians. Then they care for the generation after theirs and so forth."

"I understand and I agree," he nodded. "That's why my first love has always been teaching. But being a nanny? Living in other people's homes - ?"

"Where I come from it isn't our habit to think of life as work…"

"…or work as life," Hal finished for her.

Surprised she asked, "How did you know?"

"Oh," he gestured vaguely.

"Maybe I _have _influenced you," Phoebe said looking at him suddenly wary.

"Now, who's the skeptic here?" her husband asked with a grin. "Go on."

"Well, I was taught – at a very young age – the benefits of charity and of helping others. But as I grew older I found that I didn't want the role of "Lady Bountiful" – writing checks and sitting on committees, as useful as that may be. I saw that although giving money is important, it is more important to give of yourself. In fact, I learned that from my own nanny. Volunteering at soup kitchens and hospitals is all well and good, but the real work, the work that has the most impact, is done in people's homes, with individual families."

Listening intently, Hal waited as she paused. "Yes?" he encouraged.

"I looked for people and families in need – real need – and went to them, lived with them and helped them. People who needed hands-on help not merely financial assistance. For instance, your situation," Phoebe smiled at him, remembering. "When I arrived here money wouldn't have helped you. You could afford domestic help; it was the type of help you needed that was important. You needed me."

"I still do," he told her, smiling affectionately, "and I always will." Still curious he asked, "But the money…?"

"The salaries I was paid always went into trusts for the children I worked with," she explained. "In fact, your money…"

Hal rolled his eyes. "Please, I'm having a hard enough time dealing with all of this new-found affluence."

She laughed. "Then we'll spread it around to do good somewhere else." Phoebe thought for a moment. "It would be good for the children to give their time and their money to an animal shelter, a day care center, a wildlife preserve…"

"O.K., I get it!" He laughed now, rolling them both to lie on their sides. Facing one another in a close embrace he said, "We'll be Lord and Lady Bountiful and take on all of the local charities brining the kids along." Tightening his hold on her he said, "You know, I still can't absorb all of this: all that I've learned about you this past week."

"You will in time." Phoebe slipped one hand through his thick hair and caressed the back of his neck. "Everything turned out so well, for everyone concerned. Cholmondeley told me you'd said the discovery our marriage was predestined meant what worked out best for us, would work out best for him, for his future."

"I'm glad we had the opportunity to meet with him again." At her doubtful look, Hal continued, "I may not have been so happy at first, but it was good to clear the air, to get a lot of things said, and for you to see him again."

"I needed to know he was going to be fine, and he is. And he gave us his blessing. You even have the concrete proof of Melissa's portrait in the locket. Kismet: the face of our destiny." She nuzzled his cheek, and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Knowing he had never voiced those words to her, Hal accepted Phoebe echoing his thoughts back to him. He looked at her with dark, serious eyes. "I never needed proof or a concrete answer to confirm what I've always known about us. I believe in you and I believe in our love and that's all I'll ever need to know."

"Then we believe the same thing," his wife told him with shining eyes.

Cradling her even closer, Hal whispered in her ear, "Before you came, I couldn't imagine anyone like you in my life, and now I can't conceive of a life without you. It has been a long and sometimes strange journey, but I have loved every moment of it. I have loved you through every moment of it, even if I didn't know it then. And I will continue to love discovering and rediscovering answers to my personal puzzle, my private enigma, my love."

With tears in her voice, Phoebe whispered back, "And if we choose…"if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death," she quoted.

Hal kissed her then, following her down onto the pillows to continue their journey and to fulfill their destiny.

The End

Author's note: Thanks for reading. Feedback is very much appreciated. I would love to hear from you!

The poem quoted above is "How do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


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